La Vie Comme Un Infirme
by Amelie de Lorraine
Summary: Sirius was able to have Peter sent to Azkaban and was able to gain custody of Harry. But, when tragedy strikes, both Harry and Sirius must find a way to handle it. Please read and review.
1. Hagrid's Choice

**Author's Note: **I actually began this story years ago, but never got it finished. So, I've decided to start it now. Enjoy!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter One: Hagrid's Choice

"_But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh?" _

-Hagrid, _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban Ch. 10_

Sirius Black felt the bitter coldness of the air sting his face like a whip raced through the dark Halloween sky on his flying motorbike. His short black hair blew backward in the wind while his gray eyes looked straight ahead of him. He had to get to Godric's Hollow before it was too late. He had just been to Peter's flat to check on him, when he realized Peter wasn't there. But, there was no sign as if anyone had tried to break in. That could only mean that Peter had fled, worried that someone might catch him for whatever reason, and that reason had to concern the Potters.

He finally arrived at Godric's Hollow. It was a small village located in the countryside east of Bristol. There wasn't much too it. Just cottages, a small church, and a one little marketplace. On any other night, it would have seemed like a peaceful little town to be. On where you could see the stars in the sky without any interruptions from fog or mist.

But not on this night.

Sirius let out an ear-piercing scream when he saw the dead bodies of James and Lily Potter, his best friends, lying on the ground in the mist of the ruins of the house. There was an extremely large man bending over a heap of rubble and searching through it. As Sirius came down to the ground and stopped his motorcycle, he noticed the man pick up something small and moving and heard a small cry.

"Hagrid, Hagrid!" Sirius called to the giant as he jumped off his motorcycle and ran toward him. It was so cold that he could see his breath as he spoke. "Is that Harry? Is he all right?"

Sirius looked down and noticed the baby in Hagrid's arms. It had a bleeding cut across its forehead. "Give Harry to me, Hagrid. I'm his godfather, I'll look after him." Sirius was as pale as a ghost now, and his entire body was shaking madly.

"I'm sorry, Sirius. I can'. I got me orders from Dumbledore. He says he wants me ter take Harry ter his aunt and uncle's."

"Please Hagrid. His parents appointed _me _his guardian. He's my responsibility now, and I love him. _Please let me have him._" Sirius reached out and touched his godson's bleeding forehead and began to cry. "Please, Hagrid…He needs me."

Hagrid saw the hurt and love in Sirius's eyes. He sighed, knowing very well that what he was about to do was disobeying Dumbledore's orders, and knowing even more so that Dumbledore would be angry with him. But, he hated to see people suffer.

"Alrigh'." He handed slowly placed Harry in Sirius's arms. "But let me say goodbye firs'." He bent his shaggy head over Harry and kissed him.

Sirius wiped the blood off of Harry's forehead and tightened the blankets around him.

"Thank you, Hagrid," he said. "I'll take good care of him." He climbed back on the motorbike again took to the sky at a fast pace.

Now he was in search of Peter. He had to find him before he could get away. Holding onto Harry tightly, he looked down below him, searching alleys, streets, anywhere Peter could possibly be. Finally, Sirius came across a plump little man with mousy colored hair sneaking quietly down Birch Street and looking cautiously about him. He turned onto a dark alleyway between two large buildings. Sirius turned the bike downward, holding on tightly to his godson.

"Hold on, Harry," he whispered.

The motorbike touched the ground right in front of the plump man, cornering him in the alleyway.

"S-Sirius!" Peter looked nervous. He knew Sirius had come to deal with him. He fumbled for his wand inside his cloak.

_Any good wizard would have his wand in an easy spot to reach, _Sirius thought. He pulled out his own wand and shouted, "_Petrificus Totalus_!" In an instant, Peter was lying on the ground, as stiff as a board. Sirius took hold of him and Apparated all three of them to the Ministry of Magic immediately.

They landed right in the middle of a crowded hallway, scaring everyone. "Help!" Sirius shouted. "Get the Minister! I found a murderer!"

"A murderer?" A tall blonde woman asked.

"Yes! GO GET THE MINISTER!"

The woman didn't need to be told twice. She ran down the hallway and returned in an instant, followed by a large, red-haired man wearing a green suit. It was Philip Dawson, Minister of Magic. He was followed by several Aurors whom Sirius recognized from his own field.

"You found a murderer?" Dawson asked Sirius.

"Yes sir," Sirius nodded shakily. "He's under the Petrificus Totalus curse. He killed the Potters. Please believe me."

"We can interrogate him," replied Dawson. "But, Albus Dumbledore should definitely be notified of this first." He turned to the blonde woman who had alerted him. "Jana, go place a fire call to Hogwarts immediately and tell the Headmaster to come here at once."

"Yes, sir." Jana was pale now and looked frightened to death, but she obeyed and ran down the hall to the nearest fireplace.

"Let's take him in here." Dawson gestured to a vacant room near where everyone was standing. The Aurors brought Peter inside and tied him into a chair before reviving him. He panicked and squeaked in fear, but hushed immediately when one of the Aurors pointed his wand at his face.

Albus Dumbledore arrived about a minute later with the young woman Jana on his heels. He was a very old man with a crooked nose, a long white beard that reached to his waist, half-moon spectacles, and sparkling blue robes.

"Miss Wilder tells me that you found a murder in league with Voldemort, Philip." Dumbledore said serenely. His expression did not change when he noticed Sirius sitting in a chair with an alert baby Harry in his arms. "Would you like to fill me in?"

"Well, Professor Dumbledore," Dawson began. "This boy found him. I think he should be the one to explain."

"Alright then, Sirius," Dumbledore smiled sweetly. "Please explain what happened."

Sirius explained to Dumbledore all that happened that night, while Peter whimpered and begged for mercy in the chair in the corner of the room.

After Sirius finished his story, Dumbledore said, "I think now it would be appropriate, with your consent, of course, Minister, to administer Veritaserum to Mr. Pettigrew to collaborate Mr. Black's story."

"Yes, yes, of course." Dawson nodded and turned to one of the Aurors. "Mr. Ridge, will you please go and fetch the Veritaserum, please?"

The Auror nodded and left the room. A few minutes later, he returned with a small silver bottle. He and another Auror forced it in Pettigrew's mouth as best they could, for Pettigrew was struggling to get free. In a moment's time, however, Pettigrew's face was expressionless and his watery eyes were glazed over.

"What is your name?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Were you the Potter's Secret-Keeper?"

"Yes. I was their second."

"Who was their first?"

"Sirius Black." Pettigrew replied. "He wanted James and Lily to change from him to me at the last minute because he thought no one would think I was their Secret-Keeper. So, no one would go after me."

"But you turned them in to Voldemort?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes. I had been in league with the Dark Lord long before they even had a Secret-Keeper."

Dumbledore nodded. "I think it's safe to take Mr. Pettigrew to Azkaban for now. We can settle a trial date at a later time."

Dawson nodded and gestured for the Aurors to remove Pettigrew from the room.

"Now, for Harry, Sirius." Dumbledore looked directly at Sirius. "I think it's time for Harry to go to his aunt and uncle's house."

Sirius felt his stomach turn and his eyes widen in shock. "_What_!" He held onto Harry close. "NO! Professor, please. They hate wizards! They'll torture him! Lily and James appointed me Harry's guardian because they hate wizards! They would want nothing to do with him!"

"But, Sirius," Dumbledore explained calmly. "They are his true family. Before Lily died, she placed a blood protection on Harry that allowed him to survive Voldemort. With that protection, with a blood relative, neither Voldemort nor his followers can get to Harry. He will be safe with them."

Sirius was crying now and holding Harry tightly. Harry noticed the commotion and put his little hands on Sirius's face, as if he were trying to wipe the tears away. Sirius kissed Harry's chubby fingers.

"You see?" Sirius asked urgently. "He loves me, too. You can't let him live with those people. You can't take love from him. Please no!"

Dumbledore sighed. "I'll consider." He said. "Until then, Harry may stay with you, but your home must be heavily charmed."

"Thank you, Professor! Thank you!"

Dumbledore held up his hand. "But, when I make my decision, you must comply with whatever it is. Do you understand, Sirius?"

"Yes, sir," replied Sirius sadly. "I understand."

**End Note: **That's chapter one. Stay tuned for chapter two: "Dumbledore's Decision."

Bonne Semaine,

Amélie


	2. Dumbledore's Decision

**Author's Note: **I said 'bonne semaine' (which means 'have a good week') yesterday, didn't I? Well, I changed my mind. Instead of waiting next week to update, I decided to update this story sooner, just to get it started. I hope you like chapter two, and PLEASE review. Merci.

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Two: Dumbledore's Decision

Albus Dumbledore spent the next few days doing nothing but considering his choice. He knew that he absolutely had to make the right decision, or else he would cause a poor child much misery. On the morning of November 3, Dumbledore sat in his office conversing with his Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, a stern woman with a strict policy, but nevertheless, a kind heart. She was an Animagus, one who could change into an animal at will, and had been watching the Dursley family for the past couple of days. Unfortunately, her report on Harry's only living relatives was not a good one.

"They have a very spoiled son," she informed him, a disgusted look on her face. "He did nothing but pull his mother's hair and whine until she gave in to whatever he wanted. They certainly have no real idea how to raise a child. Arabella Figg lives right down the street from them and even babysat the monster once. She says he was a terrible child, and when she told the parents, they didn't even give it a second thought. Thought he was the best child in the world. Lily's sister even encouraged him for what he did to Arabella, and she's not the nicest woman herself. She spends all day spying on the neighbors, butting her head into their privacy. She has no respect for anyone. And what's worse, last night, a sweet nun woman from the Muggle orphanage in London came by to ask for clothing donations, and do you know what that repulsive, selfish lard of a husband did? He told that poor woman that those children didn't deserve donations! _He said they became orphans just so people could feel sorry for them! _If that isn't considered evil, I don't know what is. Albus, those people are the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. Sirius would be a much better parent."

Dumbledore sighed, his hands folded in his lap. "I just don't know what to do."

"Well, in my opinion, I would much rather leave the poor child with Grindelwald himself than with those people." McGonagall snorted.

This statement made Dumbledore chuckle. _Gellert raise a child? Not in a million years._

Later that night, Dumbledore decided he needed to relax and get his thoughts together. He was determined to make his final decision by tomorrow. He decided to go to the Hog's head for a brandy. Not many, just one. Dumbledore was cautious never drink more than one alcoholic beverage. He'd learned that years ago.

The Hog's Head was the most popular pub in the village of Hogsmeade, and in Dumbledore's opinion, made the best brandy. However, it was not the biggest or the most fancy. In fact, it was practically the smallest and barely had any decorations. It was crowded between a robe shop and a boutique, however odd that was. Dumbledore always thought that his brother could have picked a much more convenient spot to build it, but he supposed Aberforth had had his reasons. As he walked into the pub, faces turned to look at him. Some nodded to him. Others just stared in amazement, which Dumbledore despised people doing. But, he was, after all, very famous, so his popularity could not be avoided. However, that was one thing that his jealous younger brother hated about him, which made Dumbledore hate his popularity even more. He sat down at the counter and asked the waitress to bring him a small brandy. When she returned with his order, he drank it slowly and in silence, deep in thought.

In fact, Dumbledore was so deep in thought that after awhile, he realized that he was the last one in the pub, and he wasn't even a quarter of the way finished with his brandy. His brother finally came out of the back room and stood at the counter, watching him. Aberforth looked much like Albus. He was just as tall, just as thin, and had the same blue eyes and white hair. However, he wore no glasses, his beard was nowhere near as long as that of Albus, and his style of dress was much more plain.

"Is somethin' bothering you, Albus?" asked Aberforth quietly. "You normally don't stay around so long."

"Yes," Albus looked up at his brother frustrated. "It's about little Harry Potter. His mother left a blood protection on him, which allowed him to survive Voldemort. That blood protection can only stay with him if he goes to live with a blood relative, which happens to be his aunt. Unfortunately, she and her husband are Muggles and, from all the reports and sources that I've gotten, are rude, selfish, and absolutely detest wizards. But, living with them is the only way to truly insure Harry's safety. But, at the same time, obviously, they would probably neglect him."

Aberforth nodded. "I see. Very interesting."

"Oh, but that's not all," Albus continued. "Harry's godfather is begging to take custody of him and won't take no for an answer. He loves him and has enough responsibility, but, I'm afraid that if Harry goes to live with him, Voldemort may find him. I just don't know what to do." Albus looked down at his brandy sadly.

"Hmm," said Aberforth. "This reminds me of something else."

"What are you talking about?" Albus looked up at his brother quizzically.

"Come with me, Albus. Let me explain." Aberforth gestured for Albus to follow him into the back room.

It wasn't a very large room at all, and barely had anything in it. Just one wooden table, a few chairs, and a fireplace. Albus's stomach gave a jolt when he noticed what it was that was hanging above the fireplace. It was a beautiful oil portrait of his sister, Ariana. Her long, white-blonde hair was brushed neatly over her shoulders and her eyes were sparkling blue. It was the only portrait ever painted of her. Gellert had painted it a few days before Ariana's death. Albus was surprised, considering the circumstances of who painted the picture, that Aberforth had kept it.

"Do you see that girl, Albus?" Aberforth asked, as though Albus had no idea who the little girl was. But, he nodded all the same. Aberforth continued. "A long, long time ago—a very long time ago—that little girl lived with her mother. But, one day the mother died, and the little girl's only living relatives were her two older brothers. Her second oldest brother—" Aberforth smiled at the thought of himself—"loved his little sister, and she loved him. The oldest brother, on the other hand, was selfish, and power-hungry, and never thought once about his little sister. But, he was her legal guardian, being eighteen, and was obliged to take care of her. Everyone believed that because he was her legal guardian, that he would give her the proper 'protection.' But, the younger brother knew better. He knew that the older brother did not love his sister, and would cause even more harm to her. So, the two brothers got in a fight and what happened Albus?" Aberforth glared at his brother, making sure the guilt sank in.

"She died." Albus's eyes glossed over with tears.

"Yes," Aberforth drawled, still glaring. "But, what do you think would have happened to that little girl if she had been raised by her mean older brother, Albus?"

"She would have had a horrible life." Albus dabbed his eye with his handkerchief. "She would have had a horrible life because her brother wouldn't have given her the love that she deserved, even though he was her legal guardian. He would have protected her from some things, but what good would any protection be if he were abusing her?" Tears were now flowing down his cheeks. He could not believe it. If he allowed Harry to spend a miserable life with the Dursleys, then another child's life would be ruined because of him. But, what was worse was that he was the only one who had not seen this fact. Everyone else had been able to see the horrible consequences of the Dursleys raising Harry, but not the one person who had been in their position and had actually neglected a child. He should have seen it before anyone else, but in his stubbornness he did not.

"Exactly. So, I think you should consider that in you decision. Just in case Potter's relatives are anywhere near as _horrible _as that older brother. We certainly don't want any more children to have to suffer what that little girl did. Now, get out. I'm closin'!"

When he arrived back at Hogwarts, Dumbledore made a fire call to Sirius's apartment.

Sirius bent down in front of the fireplace, a freshly bathed baby Harry sitting calmly in his arms.

"Sirius," Dumbledore began. "I've made my decision. After everything I've heard about the Dursleys, and not to mention after some experiences of my own, I've decided…that you can keep Harry."

Sirius looked as he could kiss Dumbledore's cheek in thankfulness. "I can? Really? Oh, THANK YOU! I'll be the best father figure ever! Did you hear that, Harry? You're all mine now." He kissed Harry's wet forehead. Harry giggled in reply.

"But," Dumbledore stopped Sirius's cheering. "I would advise you to live in a remote town with protective wards. I'll even be your Secret-Keeper under the Fidelius Charm."

"Yes, Professor. We can move. I'll do whatever you say to keep Harry safe. Thank you so much!"

"We can start the Fidelius Charm in a week's time. That will give you enough time to find a safe residence." Dumbledore said calmly.

"Yes, Professor. I can't thank you enough." Sirius smiled brightly.

"I'll leave you now. Contact me if there is anything you require." With a faint pop, Dumbledore's head was gone, and Sirius was alone again with Harry.

"Harry, we're going to have the best life ever!" Sirius kissed him again.

**End Note: **That's chapter two. Chapter three will be starting Harry's first year, but the tragedy won't occur until Harry gets a couple months into school. Stay tuned!

Bonne Semaine (Now I can say it),

Amélie


	3. The Journey to Hogwarts

**Author's Note: **Hey guys, here's chapter 3. Enjoy and please review.

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Three: The Journey to Hogwarts

Eleven-year-old Harry James Potter awoke to the sound of his snowy white owl Hedwig rattling in her cage. Sun was shining through his bedroom window, in between the curtains. He yawned and rolled over, pulling the covers over his head. He had mixed feelings about today. Today was the day he would be leaving to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He was really excited to be going to school, of course. He'd heard so much about it from his godfather, Sirius. He knew all about the secret passageways, the moving staircases, the Forbidden Forest, and it all sounded wonderful. Plus, by going to school, he would finally be meeting _wizard _children. Of course, he had many Muggle friends. In fact, he had attended a Muggle primary school for the past six years. It was leaving these friends and Sirius behind that was the dilemma. He didn't want to have to deal with being homesick and away from the people that he loved.

Thinking about all of this prevented Harry from sleeping further. He opened his bright green eyes and reached for his glasses on the nightstand beside his bed. Sitting up straight, Harry stretched his arms and waved at Hedwig, who was staring at him from inside her cage.

"Good morning, Hedwig and thanks for waking me," he said in mock anger. He slid off his bed and walked to the doorway, stepping over his half-filled trunk and clothes that had not yet been packed and were lying on the floor. Harry had a terrible habit of not picking up his clothes, which Sirius was always nagging him about.

He walked down the stairs to the delicious scent of sausage and pancakes cooking in the kitchen. His house was not particularly large. It had three two bathrooms, three bedrooms, a small living room, and a kitchen, which also served as the dining room. The walls were covered in moving photos of Harry, Sirius, Harry's parents, and a few of Sirius's family and friends.

When he entered the kitchen, Harry found his godfather standing at the stove frying the sausage. He was a very handsome man, tall and lean, with short black hair and bangs that fell neatly into his gray eyes. Harry was often jealous of his godfather's hair and how perfect it was. His own was always in a mess: it stuck out in every direction no matter what Harry tried to do with it.

"Good morning." Sirius turned around and smiled at Harry. "I was just about to come and wake you."

"Hedwig did that," said Harry, sitting down at the table. "Ever since we got her, all she's wanted to do is go outside at night. She rarely lets me sleep."

"Well, that's because she's nocturnal." Sirius replied. "Owls love the nighttime. It's only natural for her to want to come out then. But, don't worry. Once you get to school, she'll be in the Owlery so you won't have to worry about her waking you up anymore. Here." He flipped a pancake and some sausage on a plate and handed it to Harry. "Eat up. We have to leave for the train in about an hour."

Harry sighed. He really didn't want to leave Sirius. Three months without him would be total torture.

Once he was all packed and ready to go, Harry put his trunk and Hedwig near the fireplace. He and Sirius were going to Floo to King's Cross train station in London, where the Hogwarts Express was. This was only the second time Harry had actually ever traveled by Floo powder. The first had been a few weeks before when he and Sirius had gone to Diagon Alley to get Harry's school supplies.

A knot formed in Harry's stomach when he remembered that day. It certainly had been one of the scariest experiences of his life. A ton of people pointed and whispered about him as they passed by. They said things like "That's him! That's Harry Potter! I see his scar!" Then, at Madame Malkins's Robes for All Occasions, where Harry had gone to buy his school uniform, Harry had met Draco Malfoy, one of the snobbiest boys in England. Well, at least he was according to Sirius. Sirius and Draco's mother Narcissa were first cousins and hated each other to death. They never spoke to one another, but when they saw each other that day in the robe shop, they both glared at each other in disgust.

However, the most bizarre (and not to mention the scariest) moment in Diagon Alley was when Harry had gone to purchase his wand from Ollivander's Wand Shop. It took almost ten wands before Harry found the right one. But, this wand was definitely not one that he'd wanted. It was made from holly, fourteen inches long with phoenix feather. Mr. Ollivander had simply looked at it and said that it was "curious" that Harry was destined for that wand, when "it's brother" had given Harry the lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

So later that night, Sirius sat down and explained to Harry every detail he knew about Harry's parents' deaths, Harry's scar, and Voldemort, the man who had killed Harry's parents. He even went into detail about the betrayal of his parents' friend, Peter Pettigrew and how Pettigrew had sold Harry's parents' whereabouts to Voldemort. He explained that Harry was the only person to have survived a Killing Curse from Voldemort and that someday, Harry might be the one to finally vanquish him, as was written in the prophecy that was made before Harry's birth.

"Harry?" Sirius's words jerked Harry from his thoughts. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Yeah," said Harry, nodding.

They rolled out of the fireplace in one of the nearby office buildings near the train station a few minutes later. The office building alone was crowded. Luckily, no one was in the room that the two wizards had Flooed into. They were able to walk out casually, not sparing many glances from anyone, with Hedwig sound asleep in her cage and Harry's large trunk.

The platform was equally crowded. A group of redheaded children and their mother seemed to be taking up a large portion of the platform. There were five children, four of them with very large, battered trunks. Two of them even had owls. Near the large family, a round-faced boy clutching a toad was being yelled at by an old woman who appeared to be his grandmother. At the edge of the train, a girl with bucked teeth and bushy brown hair appeared to be kissing her smiling, excited parents goodbye, and a pair of twin girls who looked to be of Indian descent were showing their bangles to an Irish boy wearing a Victor Krum jersey.

Then, out of nowhere, Harry heard his name being shouted.

"Harry Potter!" An ugly girl with dark brown hair and a face shaped like a pug's came running towards him, her mother running after her in embarrassment. "You're Harry Potter! You defeated the Dark Lord! What was it like?"

Harry was shocked. He hid behind Sirius, who tried to get the girl away from Harry. "Excuse me," he said sternly. "But, that is none of your business!"

The girl's dark eyes widened as she began to blush. "And _you _happen to be the most handsome man I've ever seen! May I have your address?"

"PANSY RENÉE PARKINSON!" The girl's mother was behind her now, red-faced and furious. "You don't ever walk up to someone and ask that young lady." The mother grabbed her daughter's hand as Pansy whined in complaint. "I am so sorry, sir," the mother told Sirius at least five times before leaving.

"I hope that doesn't happen again," said Harry.

"Hopefully, it won't," replied Sirius, sighing. "I'm sorry you have to go through all of this. It's not fun having people breathing down your neck all day long."

Then, the whistle sounded, signaling that it was time to leave. Harry turned and hugged Sirius goodbye.

"Have a good time," said Sirius. "Be on the lookout for the Marauder's Map and tell Remus I said hi."

Remus Lupin was one of Sirius's old friends from school. He, Sirius, and Harry's father James had all been best friends and in Gryffindor House together. Now, Remus was a professor at Hogwarts, teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. He'd been teaching there for the past seven years.

"Okay," said Harry. "And you remember to have Dora write to me. I want to know how she does with her Auror training. And if Jesse comes over and wants to play, don't forget to tell him I'm in America."

Sirius chuckled. "Don't worry. I won't forget."

Nymphadora "Dora" Tonks was the daughter of Sirius's cousin Andromeda (who was Narcissa Malfoy's second oldest sister) and her husband Theodore "Ted" Tonks. She was eighteen and this was her first year out of Hogwarts. Sirius was going to train her how to become an Auror, a process that would take at least three years. Jesse Mitchell was one of Harry's Muggle friends from his old school who was obsessed with soccer. Jesse had always brought Harry to every game.

Harry hugged his godfather one final time before mounting the long scarlet steam engine that was the Hogwarts Express. The aisle was long and had at least fifty compartments on either side. It seemed like forever until Harry had found a compartment that was crowded with ten people to a bench. He placed his trunk on the floor and Hedwig beside him as he sat down near the window. He saw Sirius standing outside and caught his eye. They waved to one another until the train began to move.

"Excuse me?" The compartment door opened and there stood one of the red-haired boys from the large family on the platform. He was tall and skinny with freckles, blue eyes, and a long nose. His robes were somewhat faded and patched and from up close, Harry could tell that the boy had quite a bit of dirt on his nose. "Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

"Sure," said Harry, smiling.

The boy laid his battered trunk on the floor and sat on the bench across from Harry. "I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley." The boy held out his hand and Harry shook it.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter." Of course, Harry knew the reaction that he would be getting.

Ron's eyes widened immediately. "You're Harry Potter? Do you really have that—"

"Yes." Said Harry. He lifted back his bangs to reveal the lightening bolt scar on his forehead. "But, don't ask me anything about Voldemort. I don't remember him."

Ron gasped. "You said his _name_!"

"Well, yeah." Harry was confused. "What's wrong with that? My godfather says it."

"Well," Ron began. "No one I know says it. Everyone thinks it's a swear word or something."

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" A fat woman with gray hair was now standing in doorway to the compartment, pushing a cart full of sweets.

"No thanks," replied Ron awkwardly. He held up a brown paper bag. "I'm all set."

"I'll buy something for you," said Harry. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some of the gold that Sirius had given him. "We'll take five chocolate frogs, ten licorice wands, and six pumpkin pasties, please ma'am."

A little while later, another visitor came into their compartment. It was the bushy haired girl from the platform. Though, her teach didn't look quite so large with her mouth shut. Harry also noticed that she had brown eyes and a very bossy voice.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville Longbottom lost his."

"No," replied Harry and Ron.

"Well, if you do, I'll be down the hallway," Hermione said with a bit of arrogance. Then, she rounded on Ron. "You know, you're probably the saddest thing I've ever seen. You've got dirt from your nose to your hairline. Here." She reached into the pocket of her new Hogwarts robes and took out a handkerchief, then threw it at Ron.

"Th-thanks," replied Ron, wiping his nose, but not really sure of what else to say. Luckily, didn't need to say much else. Hermione Granger had left the compartment without a word of farewell.

"Girls," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "You can't live with them, you can't live without them."

**End Note: **That's chapter three. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again. I've got this big research paper to do for my English class. Anyway, in chapter four, Harry will get sorted and classes begin. And just to let you guys know, Hermione will not become friends with Harry and Ron by means of being rescued by a troll. It will be a different circumstance, and remember to please review. Please give me some ideas on improvement, why you like this story, suggestions for further chapters, etc. If this is on your Story Alert or Favorite Story list, tell me why it is in the review. I want to know what I'm doing right and doing wrong so that I can do better. Same with saying that the chapter was good. If you say in the review that the chapter was good, please tell me what was good about it. What was your favorite part? Did you like the characters? Etc. Knowing these things would REALLY help my writing. PLEASE TELL ME!

Merci beaucoup,

Amélie :)


	4. The Sorting

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter four. I decided I'd go ahead and write it because we've got a three-day weekend so I'd have the time. PLEASE remember to review and tell me what you like about the story and what I should improve on.

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Four: The Sorting

The train ride was much longer than Harry had expected it to be. By the time the train had finally stopped to let students out, it was 8:00 pm and dark outside. All the students were instructed to leave their belongings inside the train and exit via the side doors. Harry and Ron hopped off the train and joined the rest of the bewildered first years.

"Firs' years! Firs' years! Righ' this way! Follow me." A giant of a man with long, matted black hair and beard was waving a lantern in front of the students. "Follow me!"

The first years obeyed and soon found themselves in front of a large group of boats on a lake leading to the magnificent castle that was Hogwarts.

"No more than five to a boat," the giant said. He was so large that he took up a boat all to himself.

Ron and Harry chose the boat closest to the shore. They were joined by a tall black boy and the Irish boy who had been wearing the Viktor Krum jersey earlier. He was now dressed in his new Hogwarts robes.

"I'm Dean Thomas," The black boy said. He shook hands with the rest of the occupants of the boat as it began to move across the smooth lake.

"I'm Seamus Finnegan," the Irish boy said. "I'm half-and-half. Dad's a Muggle. Mum's a witch." The last part seemed like a rehearsed line; as though he told it to everyone he met.

"I'm Ron Weasley," said Ron. "This is Harry Potter."

Dean and Seamus both gasped, but Harry was quick to change the subject.

"I saw your Krum jersey," he told Seamus. "So you like Quidditch? Is Bulgaria your favorite team?"

"Yes and double yes!" Seamus replied enthusiastically. "Viktor Krum's like the fastest Seeker ever!"

"Yeah, I know." Harry said. "My godfather took me to one of his games and he caught the Snitch in three minutes. But, I was sort of disappointed. The game could've gone on a _little _while longer."

"Do you like Quidditch, Dean?" Ron asked.

"Well, no." Dean looked sort of embarrassed. "I'd actually never heard of it until today."

"Are you Muggle-born?" asked Harry.

"I don't know really," Dean replied. "My mum and my stepdad are Muggles, but I don't know about my real dad. He left when I was a baby, so he might have been a wizard. So, technically I am Muggle-born. Anyway, I am really into Muggle sports, like soccer."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, so is my friend Jesse. You two would get along real well. He's a soccer fanatic."

The boats docked on the other side of the lake and the students were led by the giant into the large castle. They all walked up a magnificent marble staircase where a tall, thin woman with a pinched face and black hair in a tight bun was waiting for them. She was standing in front of two large doors.

"Firs' years, Professor McGonagall," the giant said to the woman.

"Thank you, Hagrid," the woman said. "Welcome to Hogwarts, everyone. My name is Professor McGonagall, and I am the Deputy Headmistress of this school. I am also the Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House. The other three Houses are Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. When you walk through these doors, you will be sorted into one of these Houses. At the end of the year, the House that receives the most points for good behavior and academic achievement will be awarded the House Cup, but any rule-breaking, and points will be lost."

"I hope I'm in Gryffindor," Ron whispered from next to Harry.

"I hope I am, too," replied Harry, feeling nervous. He didn't know what Sirius would say if he wasn't in Gryffindor, and he really didn't want to disappoint him or his parents by winding up anywhere else.

"Ready now," Professor McGonagall said to the crowd of children. She led them behind the large doors into a large hall with four long, vertical tables, each filled with many children staring up at the nervous first years as they entered the room. Candles were floating every which way, and the ceiling was a dark blue color flecked with stars and a crescent moon, much like the sky outside.

"The ceiling's not real." Hermione Granger's unmistakable know-it-all voice floated to him from somewhere behind. "It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_."

There was a fifth table at the very back of the hall. This one was horizontal and in front of the others. Harry spotted Remus Lupin sitting there. He was tall, thin, and pale with graying brown hair, blue eyes, and scars across his face, but his physical appearance didn't matter to Harry in the least. Remus was one of the nicest people Harry knew.

He noticed Harry looking at him and gave him big smile, which made Harry feel more secure about the Sorting.

Professor McGongall left the room and came back carrying a three-legged stool and a very patched old wizard's hat. As soon as she set the hat on the stool, it began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't' judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave of heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart._

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you're a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

When the song stopped, McGonagall took out a scroll and began speaking. "When I call your name, you will come forth, and place the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will tell you what House you are to be in."

She cleared her throat and said, "Abbot, Hannah!"

A girl with blonde pigtails walked slowly foreward, and McGonagall placed the Hat on her head.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat shouted, and Hannah hopped off the stool to the Hufflepuff table.

Harry watched with interest as one by one the students were sorted. He hated being so low down in the alphabet. He just wanted to get it over with, but in a way, he didn't. He didn't want to be sorted and find out he was a Slytherin. That would be the worst day of his life. What would he tell Sirius? Would Sirius be so angry and worried that he would just pull Harry out of school to prevent him from becoming some evil dark wizard?

"Finnegan, Seamus!" McGonagall's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Seamus came forward calmly and sat on the stool.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat shouted. Well, Harry was glad Seamus got placed in a good House.

"Granger, Hermione!" A few minutes later, Harry noticed Hermione stride forward and nervously place the Hat on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat shouted.

On down the line, McGonagall went. Neville Longbottom, the round-faced boy who lost his toad, also became a Gryffindor. Then, McGonagall shouted:

"Malfoy, Draco!"

Blond, pale-faced, and gray-eyed, Draco Malfoy, Sirius's cousin, strutted forward arrogantly and placed the Hat on his head without McGonagall's help. She looked a bit taken aback.

"SLYTHERIN!" The Hat had barely touched Malfoy's head when it shouted the name of Malfoy's House. Harry remembered Sirius telling him that everyone in his family had wound up in Slytherin, expect for himself. He had been the swan in the flock of ugly ducks.

Finally, the P's were being said. Pansy Parkinson, the pug-faced girl who had tried to flirt with Sirius on the platform, became a Slytherin. The "Patil" twins, the Indian girls who had been showing off their bangles to Seamus, wound up in separate Houses: Padma, in Ravenclaw, and Parvati, in Gryffindor.

"Potter, Harry!"

Finally, it was his turn. As he strode up to the Hat, he heard many whispers, much like he had in Diagon Alley. "Harry Potter?" "Yeah, that's him! I see his scar!"

Hearing these comments made Harry all the more nervous. He almost tripped over the steps as he walked up toward the Hat. He saw Remus smiling at him over at the staff table and Ron watching nervously.

McGonagall placed the Hat on Harry's head as he sat down on the stool. Suddenly, a small voice appeared in his ear.

"Hmmm…very interesting. Smart, brave, clever…you would do well in Slytherin."

"No-no please!" Harry thought. "Anything but Slytherin!"

"Are you sure? You would be great there…hmm, you remind me of someone else. Another young boy, long, long ago. He didn't want to be a Slytherin, either, but he had the brains and the cleverness, as do you. Yes, he turned out to be very great indeed."

Suddenly, Harry remembered what Mr. Ollivander had said to him in the wand shop: _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. _Now Harry understood! Voldemort himself had a Slytherin.

"Please not Slytherin!" Harry repeated. He gripped the bottom of the stool tightly, his hands covered in sweat and his stomach tide in a knot. He could _not _be put in Slytherin. He could _not _grow up to be like Voldemort

"Well, if you're sure, better be…GRYFFINDOR!"

It felt as though a gigantic weight had been lifted off Harry's shoulders (as well as his stomach.) He let out a deep sigh. He was a Gryffindor! Now he had a chance to honor his family and everyone he loved. There were loud cheers from the Gryffindor table, as well as from the staff table. Remus, in fact, was wearing the widest smile of anyone and was clapping the hardest. Harry smiled back at him as he walked over to the Gryffindor table, where he sat next to Neville Longbottom.

After a while, Dean Thomas's name was called and he, too joined the Gryffindor table. Ron's name was the last of the new students to join the Gryffindors. He jumped off the stool with a big, heaving sigh and plopped down next to Harry.

When the Sorting was finally over, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore stood up at the staff table. He was a very old man with long white hair and beard, crystal blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles, and neon green robes embroidered in gold.

"Before we begin our feast," the old man began, "there are a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce. First and foremost is that, to all of our new students, our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin—" Remus raised his hand so that everyone could see who he was—"is in fact a werewolf."

The majority of the first years, including Hermione and Neville, let out a gasp and began to whisper excitedly. But, Dumbledore held up his hand and continued, "But, it should be made clear that Professor Lupin is not a _threat _to anyone. He is being given the Wolfsbane Potion and will become nothing more than a harmless wolf."

The children relaxed at this statement and Dumbledore continued again, "I also should make it clear that the third floor corridor, as well as the Forbidden Forest, are strictly off limits to _all _students. I have also gathered a list of all the items from Zonko's Joke Shop that are now suspended from being used at this school. It has been posted in the library if anyone wishes to see it. That being said, I hope you all have a wonderful year and let the feast begin!"

Instantly, a large buffet of food appeared before the children's eyes. There were lamb chops, ham, roast chicken, green beans, carrots, mashed potatoes, salad, corn, broccoli-cheese soup, and other delicious food. Harry had never seen so much food in his life. Sirius was an excellent cook, but he never made this much food. Harry piled as much food as he could on his plate and began to chow down.

About thirty minutes later, deserts appeared. There were fifty flavors of ice cream, apple pie, cherry pie, trinkle tarts, tiramisu, and chocolate velvet cake. Ron had half of the cake on his plate before anyone else could get any.

"Don't be so greedy," snapped Hermione Granger from the other side of the table. "Save some for others."

"Fine," said Ron, his mouth full. He spit out the cake onto his plate. "Here you go." He smiled wickedly and hand his plate to Hermione, who scowled in disgust.

When the feast was over, the children were led to their Common Rooms. Gryffindor Tower was located in one of the highest towers that the school had. Everyone had to walk at least ten flights of stairs to get there. There was a large portrait of a fat woman in a pink dress in front of the door to the Tower.

"Password?" she said.

A redheaded boy with horn-rimmed glasses and a shiny silver prefect's badge on his chest was leading the rest of the students.

"That's my brother, Percy," Ron whispered to Harry. "Be careful when you're around him. His big head might rub off on you."

Harry chuckled as Percy said, "Dragon wings."

The portrait opened to reveal a large room with red and gold walls and large, comfy chairs and cushions.

"This is the Gryffindor Common Room," Percy announced. "The boy's dormitory is on your left, the girl's dormitory is on your right. Your belongings have already been brought up."

Upon opening the door to their dormitory, the five new Gryffindor boys found their very own four-poster beds and their trunks waiting for them. Harry sank down on his bed, exhausted. He couldn't wait to write to Sirius tomorrow to tell him how much fun this was going to be.

**Author's Note: **Sorry. I said this chapter would have classes in it, didn't I? Sorry about that. The classes will start in the next chapter, as well as Dora's Auror training. PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And if you haven't already, please go to my profile and vote for what you think the tragedy will be. Thanks.

À Bientôt,

Amelie


	5. Classes and Chaos

**Author's Note: **YEAH! Research paper's done! Now I can continue with my stories! So, without further adieu, I give you Chapter Five!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Five: Classes and Chaos

The first day of school was a very interesting experience, both for good and bad reasons. The five Gryffindor boys dressed in their robes aligned with red and gold filed into the Great Hall with the smell of bacon and eggs filling their nostrils. Hermione Granger was already sitting at the table reading her Transfigurations book, her bushy hair neatly combed over her shoulders.

"Classes haven't even started yet," said Ron, piling eggs onto his plate. "How can you be reading?"

"There's so much to learn" replied Hermione haughtily without taking her eyes away from her book. She took a large gulp of pumpkin juice. "You can't just wait for the _teachers _to teach us stuff!"

But, Harry agreed with Ron. Hermione was overacting just a little bit. They hadn't even been assigned anything, and here she was trying to become an expert on everything. She really needed to relax.

"Our first class is Transfiguration." Hermione looked over at her schedule. "And I here it's a hard class. McGonagall's supposed to be very strict."

"She can't be that bad," said Ron, taking a large bite of eggs.

"Yeah," agreed Neville who was munching on his cereal from across the table. "We're first years. She'll go easy on us."

&

But as it turned out, Hermione got the last laugh. Professor McGonagall was a very strict teacher indeed. She yelled at Seamus during the first five minutes of class for chewing gum, took away Parvati's bangles because they "caused too much of a distraction," and asked Ron all the hard questions and then scolded him for not knowing the answers. On top of it all, she had made them write a six-page essay for homework. Hermione, of course, was the only one prepared for that. (She had already finished it before it had been assigned.)

However, as far as the academics went, Harry thought the class itself was rather easy. Of course, Harry knew that that had to be something genetic. Sirius had told him all about Harry's father's love and talent for Transfiguration, which had helped him and Sirius become Animagi in their fifth year of school.

During the lesson, Professor McGonagall had given the class instructions to try and transfigure a cup into a bird using a simple spell. A blue spark issued from Harry's wand and his tiny cup turned into a brown sparrow. Ron, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. His "bird" still had the same rose flower pattern on it that the cup had, and its "legs" were still shaped like the base of the cup.

McGonagall shook her head and made a "tsk" noise at Ron. "You definitely need to practice, Mr. Weasley."

Ron blushed in embarrassment.

But, McGonagall smiled in delight as she noticed Harry's work. "Excellent, Mr. Potter. You will do well in this class. If you keep this work up, maybe next year I'll move you to Advanced Transfiguration."

Harry smiled. He was glad that his first class had gone so well. No one else but Hermione appeared to be doing as well as he was. Neville's cup caught on fire as soon as he performed the spell, Seamus's bird spewed out tea all over his desk, and Dean's tried flying and crashed itself into the wall.

&

Potions class was next, which Harry knew he would not like in the slightest. Sirius had told him everything about the past that he, Harry's father, Remus, and the Potions professor Snape had shared. They had hated each other in school and had always been bitter enemies, so Harry strongly suspected that Snape would not like him at all.

The dungeon was the coldest and most desolate area in the castle. Chains hung on the cold walls, which appeared to be dripping water. The Potions classroom itself was rather large and made everyone's footsteps echo as they walked through the doors.

The Slytherins in their green and silver were also there. Draco Malfoy and his two goons Crabbe and Goyle were sitting in the back whispering to each other and pointing at all the Gryffindors, no doubt gossiping about how stupid and "inferior" they all were to Slytherins.

Harry's suspicions proved to be correct. Snape hated him worse than any other student. When he called his name in the role, he immediately began taunting him.

"Harry Potter," Snape looked up from the roster, his greasy black hair falling into his black eyes. "Our new celebrity."

Harry gulped and felt his stomach tighten. Snape was going to embarrass him, ask him a hard question.

"Tell me," Snape sneered. "What would I get if I added powder root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up in the air. Of course, she would know the answer.

It worked. Harry was extremely embarrassed. "I-I don't know, sir," Harry replied in a small voice.

Hermione let out a whimper, which Snape ignored. He sneered again.

"Clearly, fame isn't everything."

For the remainder of the class, they practiced makingacidicpotions. Unfortunately, in this class, Hermione was the _only _one successful. Her potion had turned the exact shade of purple as was required, while Harry's and Ron's both turned brown. Dean's looked like water and Seamus just spilled his all over the floor, burning holes in everyone's shoes. Crabbe's had turned a pink color, like cotton candy. He tried to eat it, but Malfoy had seen it coming and had knocked him on the floor before he could put the ladle in his mouth.

But, Neville had the worst situation. His potion had boiled over and splattered him in the face, giving him blisters.

"Idiot boy! Take him to the hospital wing!" Snape shouted angrily. He clearly hated children.

Neville squealed in pain as he walked slowly out of the classroom, supported by Seamus.

Harry thought that this was rather rude of Snape. If a student were injured, _he _should be the one to take them to the hospital, not another student.

&

Harry was rather excited for the next class. It was Defense Against the Dark Arts, Remus's class. Harry couldn't wait to see what he had in store for the students.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was much higher up than the Potions classroom was. It was on the fourth floor and was much warmer. The walls were covered in pictures of strange creatures, some with three eyes, some with four. One creature even had five legs, ten eyes, and three heads.

Ron flinched from beside Harry when he noticed a picture of an Acromantula (a very large spider) on the wall.

"I don't like spiders," he whispered.

"Good morning." Remus appeared on the stairs, which led to his office, in front of the students. He had a bit more color to his cheeks than he had had the night before, and he seemed livelier. Unlike McGonagall and Snape, who had been dressed in their finest robes (although in Snape's case, his robes were nothing but black, so there was nothing really all that fine about them), Remus's robes were patched and frayed, much like Ron's robes. He walked steadily down the staircase and stood in front of the students.

"My name is Professor Lupin, and I am going to be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for, hopefully, the next seven years."

"Is it true you're a werewolf?" asked Seamus, looking a bit nervous.

Harry scowled. He didn't understand what difference it made if Remus were a werewolf or not. He was still a person, and no one should have been afraid of him. He was one of the nicest people Harry had ever met in his life.

Remus sighed. Harry noticed that he had dark circles under his eyes. "Yes, it is true. I am a werewolf."

Everyone gasped. It was obvious that they couldn't take Dumbledore's word for an answer. They had to know firsthand.

"But, there is nothing to be afraid of. I won't bit any of you. I'm under a strict medication that keeps my symptoms in check." He smiled sweetly. "Now, let me take attendance, and then we'll start the lesson."

The first lesson was fun for everyone. They learned about different Dark creatures and then had to perform charades in which they acted out a creature. Harry did a good imitation of a Grindylow, which stumped almost everyone. Ron, unfortunately, got stuck with imitating the Acromantula and wound up fainting before anyone had even got a chance to guess what he was.

Dean was a chimera and acted it out by jumping on top of the desks and growling at everyone. Seamus tried, but did not succeed, doing a basilisk impression. He tried slithering on the floor, but wound up giving himself a knee burn from the tile.

&

After lunch was probably the most exciting class for Harry: broom flying. It was taught outside on the Quidditch field with Madam Hooch. She was a tall, thin woman with short gray hair and yellow eyes, much like Hedwig's.

The field was large and green. Three large golden hoops stood on opposite sides of the field. Harry was so excited. He loved Quidditch, but he felt a surge of sadness when he remembered that first years weren't allowed to play. And it didn't make him feel any better to know that brooms were laid out for everyone and that everyone included the Slytherins and Draco Malfoy.

"Good afternoon class," Madam Hooch said as soon as everyone had taken a place with a broom. "Now, when I blow my whistle, everyone take hold of your broom and say, 'up.'"

She took hold of the tiny silver whistle around her neck and blew.

"UP!" Everyone shouted.

Harry's broom, which was probably the ugliest one he had ever seen in his life (it looked like a beaver had been chewing on it), flew into his hand immediately. Ron's flew up halfway towards him, but then went back down. Both Hermione's and Malfoy's rolled over sideways, while Neville's didn't move at all. In the end, they all had to resort to picking their brooms up.

"Now," Madam Hooch clapped her hands together. "When I blow my whistle on three, you all will grab hold on the handle of your brooms and mount. One…two—"

But before she could get to three, Neville Longbottom (who had returned from the hospital wing after only thirty minutes of healing his burns) had already gone flying into the air. He soared past the Quidditch field, doing loops and bucking like a wild horse. Everyone yelled at him to come down, when finally, a gargoyle caught hold of his robes and prevented him from flying further. His robes ripped and he fell down onto the ground with a sickening cracking noise.

Madam Hooch and ran to him as fast as her legs could carry her (as did the rest of the class), and hoisted poor Neville off of the ground.

"Broken wrist," she muttered, holding Neville's wrist firmly. "Everyone stay calm as I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing."

She gently walked a crying Neville back into the castle, leaving the other students alone. Harry just hoped Neville was okay. He knew a fall like that had to hurt.

"What's this?" Malfoy's annoying drawl brought Harry back to reality. The obnoxious Slytherin boy had picked up a round object from off of the ground. It was a Rememberall. Neville's grandmother had sent it to him at lunch that day.

"Give it here, Malfoy," Harry demanded. "That doesn't belong to you."

"Oh yeah? Come and get it Potter." Malfoy mounted his broom and began to fly off.

Harry followed. After all, Sirius always told him to stand up for his friends and help them out. Didn't getting Neville's Rememberall back count as helping him?

Of course, Harry knew how to fly, so it wasn't difficult. He shifted his broom to the left, then swerved around to catch Malfoy. Finally, he was right on his tail. But, before he could grab the Rememberall from Malfoy, the latter had thrown the ball to the ground.

Harry dipped his broom and sped up faster. He felt determination as he moved. He couldn't let Malfoy hurt Neville like this. The ball was barely a foot from the ground…Harry stretched out his hand and—caught it!

All the Gryffindors (except for Hermione Granger, for she certainly would not cheer on anyone who disobeyed a teacher's rules) screamed for joy and crowded around Harry.

"You did it, Harry!" Ron shouted, clapping him on the back. "You saved Neville's Rememberall!"

"HARRY POTTER!"

Terror suddenly filled Harry's insides as he saw the stern face of Professor McGonagall marching out into the field towards the crowd of students. Sirius was _not _going to be happy with him now.

&

In another part of England, about five hundred miles south of Hogwarts, Sirius Black was getting ready to train his cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, to be an Auror. He rearranged the "training room" (it was actually a large office at the Ministry) for Dora's arrival. He had taken almost everything out of it and put it in another room so that there would be enough room to practice. But, all in all, he was not very confident that this was going to go so well.

Of course Dora was a nice young woman, but she was extremely clumsy. About six years prior, she had tripped and knocked over an old lamp. When she was six, she had spilled pumpkin juice on a patient in St. Mungo's hospital (her mother was a Healer there and had taken Dora in for "career day"). Who knows all the messed up things the girl could do with a spell! Probably wipe out half the country.

No sooner had these unsettling thoughts Sirius's mind, when he heard a loud knock on the door. He opened it and in stumbled Dora.

She was wearing her favorite Weird Sisters t-shirt: purple with green letters. Her hair was currently shoulder-length and green (she was a Metamormagus and could change any part of her appearance at will, and the jeans that she was wearing had holes in the knees. _Why can't she ever dress appropriately?_ Sirius asked himself.

Nevertheless, he smiled, and she smiled back.

"So, what do I do first?" Dora asked cheerfully. She was always cheerful, no matter what the circumstances. That was one thing Sirius liked about her. She always kept people happy and looked on the bright side (even when there didn't appear to be one).

"Well, for starters," Sirius began. "I thought we could work on disarming your opponent, since that's your main objective in all duels."

"Okey, dokey." Dora skipped into the room and planted herself near the wall opposite the door. She held out her wand. "All ready."

"No, you're not 'all ready,"' Sirius walked over to her and made her straighten her arm. "You cannot fight holding your wand like that. You have to grip it tighter."

Dora slid her fingers down her wand farther. "Like this?"

"Okay. Yeah. That's good." Sirius walked back to the opposite side of the room. "Now, I'm going to say a spell, and you're going to try to knock my wand out of my hand. Ready?"

"Yep." Dora smiled.

"One, two, three! _Rigtasimpra_!" Sirius shouted. Orange light emitted from his wand.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Red light emitted from Dora's wand.

But she missed by a mile. The jet of light went over Sirius's head and hit the wall. Sirius gasped. There was a large wall statue behind him that he had forgotten to take down. It was one Cornelius Fudge, the current Minister of Magic. The spell hit it, and it fell off the wall and shattered into tiny shards.

Sirius stared speechlessly.

"Oops," squeaked Dora.

**Author's Note: **There's Chapter Five. Stay tuned for Chapter Six. The tragedy will probably occur in chapters seven or eight. Anyway, please remember to give me good review. If you think it's good, please tell me specifically what's good about it. I'd also like to hear some suggestions on future chapters.

Merci beaucoup,

Amélie

PS. If you haven't already done so, please go to my profile and vote for what you think the tragedy will be. Thank you so much to all of you who have voted so far!


	6. The Youngest Quidditch Player in a Centu

Author's Note: Sorry again for the wait, but I'm going to take a break from my other story to work on this one, so hopefully I

**Author's Note: **Sorry again for the wait, but I'm going to take a break from my other story "Another Day in the Department of Mysteries" to work on this one, so hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently.

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Six: The Youngest Quidditch Player in a Century

As it turns out, Harry had not been in trouble with Professor McGonagall after all. Well, at least in not as much trouble as he thought he would be. Of course, she was extremely mad at him for flying without the instruction of a teacher. He was given a week's worth of detention to see that he never did it again. However, Professor McGonagall was very pleased with the _way _that Harry flew. So pleased, in fact, that she offered him to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team as Seeker!

Harry was utterly speechless at first. This was not what he had expected at all. Everyone in Gryffindor was extremely surprised and happy at the news.

"I can't believe it!" Ron said one morning as the first year Gryffindors made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. "First years never make the House teams. You must be the youngest Quidditch player—"

"—In a century," Harry finished. "According to McGonagall." He felt so amazed that he didn't know what to think. He had certainly never been this excited in his entire life. _The youngest Quidditch player in a century. _ He couldn't believe it. "This'll be a chance to really live up to my dad. He was a really good Quidditch player, too, except he was a Chaser. Sirius said he caught the quaffle so many times during his first game that he scored one hundred points all by himself. I hope I'm that good."

Harry sighed. He desperately wanted to make his father proud….

"You'll be great," said Neville.

"The best," agreed Dean.

"Like Viktor Krum," piped in Seamus.

"With you starting out this young, you'll probably be even better than Krum," said Ron, pouring an absurdly large amount of sugar into his oatmeal. "He's only been—"

Ron never got to finish his sentence because at that moment, Harry's snowy owl Hedwig swooped down and dropped a long, slender package onto the table, landing it in Ron's oatmeal, splattering it on Hermione Granger and her Potions book.

"Sorry," Harry and Ron both said sheepishly and turned back to the package.

Hermione scowled and wiped the oatmeal out of her hair with her napkin.

The five boys gently took the package out of the bowl and cleaned it off. Harry's heart was racing. He knew what was inside before he even opened it.

Inside the box was the most magnificent broom any of them had ever seen. It had a smooth mahogany handle and neatly trimmed golden twigs that were tied together at the ends. Harry moved his hands up and down the broom, completely mesmerized.

"It's a Nimbus 2000!" Ron shouted, so loudly, that half of the Great Hall, included the teachers, stared over in their direction, though none of the boys seemed to mind. "It's the fastest model to date."

"You'd fly faster than a jet," said Dean excitedly.

Ron looked at him, confused. "A what?"

"A jet," replied Seamus. "It's a thing that Muggles fly on, sort of like a broom, but made out of metal."

Harry wasn't really paying attention. All he could do was stared at the broomstick, thinking about how fast it could go and all the things he would be doing on it. He knew that he would be able to win so many games.

At the bottom of the box, underneath the broomstick, was a letter. Harry tore open the envelope and noticed his godfather's neat handwriting.

_Dear Harry,_

_I can't begin to express how proud I am of you for making the Quidditch team this early. It's such a wonderful surprise! Your dad didn't even make it until his third year. I know he and your mum would've been so proud of you. I know you'll be as good as James was. _

_I wanted you to have the best broomstick available, so I got you this Nimbus 2000. I know it cost a lot of money and I probably shouldn't have bought it due to all the money I'm probably going to have to spend on that statue that Dora broke, but I know you deserve a broom like this. I couldn't help but buy it. You're sure to win lots of games. I can't wait to come and watch them. Take care._

_Love,_

_Sirius_

&

For the rest of that day, none of the Gryffindors (apart from Hermione) were able to concentrate on schoolwork. In Transfiguration, Ron had spent the entire class period talking about how fast Nimbus 2000's were and had even managed to Transfigure a spoon (which they were supposed to be Transfiguring into Guinea pigs) into a tiny broom to show Dean exactly how brooms work and all the different moves they were able to do. Even though it wasn't what she asked for, Professor McGonagall was very impressed with the quality of Ron's little broom and had given him an "E" for "Excellent".

"This is the best work you've done all month, Mr. Weasley," she had said after she examined the broom.

After class, Hermione Granger made a point to talk to Professor McGonagall about Ron's work. Harry and the others could hear her from down the hallway as they were moving on to History of Magic.

"How could you give him an _'E'_?" she was asking. "He didn't do the assignment! That's not right for you to give him an 'E' if he didn't do what he was told…."

On and on and on she went; and to everyone's surprise, she managed to get to History of Magic on time. All the other students had expected her to be late with her talking to McGonagall for what seemed like an eternity.

&

In Potions class, Draco Malfoy even had the nerve to taunt Harry about his broomstick while the class was attempting to develop a pain-reliever potion (for Snape's own use no doubt; he hated children so much the mere sight of them must have given him headaches).

"If you're anything like my stupid cousin," Malfoy sneered, "you'll fall off that broomstick flat onto your face."

"Dora isn't stupid," Harry retorted coldly. "She's much smarter than _you _are. She actually got into Auror training, and you can't even manage to get an 'A' on anything."

That comment seemed to hurt Malfoy. It was true, though. He was definitely not the brightest boy in the school. On his last three Potions quizzes, he'd gotten straight D's for Dreadful. His pale eyes went from haughty to angry.

"Well…my father's rich. He could buy me into Auror training if I wanted him, too!"

All the Gryffindor boys laughed at this comment. It was the only comeback Malfoy seemed to have for anything.

"Just shows how stupid you are!" said Ron. "Stupid enough to think money can solve all your problems."

"Weasley! Potter! Longbottom! Thomas! Finnegan!" Snape strode down towards the five boys, his black robes billowing behind him. To Harry, he looked more than ever like a vampire with his pale skin and his greasy black hair stuck to the side of his face.

"Detention!"

"But, Pro—" Harry began, knowing full well that he couldn't explain anything to Snape.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor for your back talk, Potter."

There was a loud crash. Neville in his nervousness had knocked his cauldron to the floor, purple liquid running down the aisle and seeping through everyone's shoes.

"And another fifteen points for spilling the potion, Longbottom."

&

For years, Harry had always thought that Jesse was the biggest fanatic that anyone could ever be. He had posters in his room of all the soccer players there had ever been. He owned everyone's jersey, and most importantly, he knew the winner to every game ever played, every score, and every possible move. But, as it turns out, Oliver Wood was a thousand times worse.

He was a large, burly fifth year with short brown hair and brown eyes. His entire world revolved around Quidditch. He would talk non-stop about a team called Puddlemere United and about how they beat the Chuddley Cannons ten games in a row. He had practices everyday, for four hours, having everyone do crunches, jog, and lift weights. He kept repeating that their team had to win this year, and the only way to do that was to stay in shape.

"No one's ever seen a fat Quidditch player, have they?" He asked one afternoon. Without waiting for a reply, he continued, "that's because fat people carry too much weight on them to make the broom go as fast. So everyone's going to workout everyday and go on a diet."

The statement shocked the whole team. A diet? Harry looked around, as did everyone else. No one on this team was remotely fat.

Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George, were stocky and rather short, but not what anyone would call fat. They were the beaters and had the dangerous job of hitting the bludgers with clubs when they came around flying at everyone.

Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, and Katherine Bell, whom everyone called Katie, were very slender didn't look as though they could afford to lose any more weight. They were the Chasers and the job of chasing the quaffle into the three golden hoops.

Wood, as Keeper, had the least work to do. Since guarding the hoops was all he had to do, he didn't participate in any of the exercises.

"You'll find dieting to be not as hard as everyone thinks." He said. "All you have to do is look at all the foods that have color in them and eat those, and all the stuff that's brown-looking throw out."

"I'd like to throw _you_ out a _window_," George Weasley whispered under his breath..

**End Note: **All in all, I feel pretty good with this chapter. I like the way it turned out. PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW AND GIVE ME SOME IDEAS!! And if you haven't done so, please go to my profile and vote for what you think the tragedy will be. Do you think that you can see any foreshadowing so far? The tragedy will come in Chapter Eight. And don't worry. Dora will make many more appearances. In fact, she'll be in all the chapters from Chapter Seven on. Stay tuned!!

Au Revoir,

Amélie


	7. Best Day Ever

Author's Note: Here's chapter seven, but I've noticed I haven't been getting many reviews L Why not

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter seven, but I've noticed I haven't been getting many reviews  Why not? What happened?

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Seven: Best Day Ever

Over the next couple of weeks, life was absolutely, positively, horrible for the Gryffindor Quidditch players. Well, for six of them, anyway.

Wood constantly monitored their food intake at every meal like an overseer. He had yelled at Alicia one night for trying to sneak a piece of chocolate cake, causing the entire Hall to stare at the Gryffindor table. Alicia had gone red in the face and very angry, like she _wouldn't _be in a situation like that.

One morning in October, a week before their first match (against Ravenclaw), Wood had gotten so frustrated with George Weasley for trying to eat a cinnamon role that he flung himself onto the table, sending food flying everywhere.

"DO YOU WANT TO BE BIG, FAT LOSERS THE REST OF YOUR LIVES?!" Wood roared, directing his comment to every member of the Quidditch team. His face was beat red and looked like it was on the verge of explosion. Harry felt shocked. He had never been yelled at like this before. But, then again, he'd never met anyone like Oliver Wood before, either.

The teachers were staring at the Gryffindor table in horror (excluding Snape, who actually looked quite delighted with the scene). Harry saw Remus, McGonagall, and Flitwick (the Charms professor) rising from their seats and heading toward the Gryffindors. The Slytherins were snickering, Draco Malfoy being one of the loudest.

Wood turned to face the professors and looked all in all embarrassed. _As well he should, _Harry thought angrily. _He had no business making a scene like that. _Across from him, George stuffed the cinnamon role into his mouth.

"Wood," McGonagall said sternly as she approached, her eyes boring through her square spectacles at Wood. "Are we going to have to deprive you of the place of Captain?"

Wood's face went from beat red to ghostly white in a split second. Everyone knew how much being Captain meant to him.

"Good captains are fair to their team members," Remus said calmly, although the look in his eyes was just as stern as McGonagall's and he was not wearing that bright smile that Harry was accustomed to seeing. "And by fair, of course, I mean that they don't yell at or _starve _them."

"We suggest you show your team some kind of decency, Wood." McGonagall's eyes flashed. "Or else they won't be _your _team anymore." She gave one of those bitter smiles of hers and, with the other two teachers, walked away.

Wood turned back to his team members in shock.

"Oh well," said Fred Weasley happily. "Looks like the diet things out of the way."

&

In truth it really wasn't. Well, the dieting was out of the question, but it was replaced by harder exercise. As the week wore on, Wood increased their practice times and added more crunches, more laps around the field, and required much faster flying times.

Harry came back to the common room each night so exhausted that he had hardly any time at all to do his homework. He would have asked Hermione Granger to help him, but she was very uptight and intimidating. It was impossible to have a decent conversation with her.

The teachers, however, were for the most part very lenient on all the Gryffindor team members. McGonagall had given Harry several extra days to turn in his essay on the process of transfiguring a mouse into water (a very hard process), and Remus had decided to exempt Harry from homework entirely until after his first match. Hermione, of course, made yet another complaint after class.

"I know how worn out you are," Remus told him with a smile. "You don't need all this pressure on you right now."

"Thank you, R-Professor Lupin," Harry smiled back. He let out a deep sigh as Remus passed by. No homework from at least one class.

Potions, predictably, was one class where Harry could not avoid turning in all of his assignments on time. In fact, Snape was even more intimidating and had even more homework piled on the class than usual that week.

"Don't worry, mate," Ron reassured him. "I'll take care of your homework for you."

_That'll be the day, unless he means copy off of Hermione_, Harry thought. Ron was terrible at doing homework. He either copied off Hermione or made up the answers. Either way, he always wound up getting a zero.

"That's okay, Ron," replied Harry, trying to sound grateful. "I can do it myself."

Later that night, Dean Thomas asked if he could do Harry's homework for him. Dean was actually a very good student, not quite as smart as Hermione (because no one was), but smart all the same. Harry knew could count on Dean. So, with that out of the way, he was able to put his entire focus on Quidditch.

&

Finally, the day of their first Quidditch match arrived. The Gryffindor team assembled out on the field for one final practice before the game began. Unfortunately, it turned out to do more harm than good.

George Weasley vomited because he had stuffed himself full of food before coming out to the field, and Angelina Johnson stubbed her toe when landing her broom on the ground.

"Oh!" she moaned. "Oliver, it's bleeding."

Sure enough, blood was gushing from her foot as she took her shoe off to examine it.

"Well," said Wood carelessly, "luckily, you don't use your toes in Quidditch. Now get up! You too, George. We have five more hours until the game starts."

&

Sirius had contemplated all week about whether or not he should have taken Dora to Harry's Quidditch match. Her parents were strongly against it because they were still angry about the statue incident. They didn't want her to have any privileges until she could learn to be less clumsy. Besides, it could have been too dangerous.

"What if she falls off the stands and breaks her leg?" Andromeda had asked one afternoon. "I have enough patients to deal with already. I certainly don't need to add my own family to the mix."

But, Dora had proven herself to be good at spell casting. She knew all the defensive spells and seemed to be getting quicker at blocking others. Besides, it wasn't like she would be doing anything to fall off the stands, anyway.

So, in the end, Sirius decided to allow Dora to come along. She was very excited, and on the entire way there, babbled about how much she loved Quidditch and the games she saw when she was at Hogwarts.

"One time, Charlie Weasley caught the Snitch and fell off his broom and landed right into the stands. Got a broken shoulder and had to go to the hospital. Won of course, but I was sad though, because I wanted Hufflepuff to win, obviously, you know, because I'm a Hufflepuff. No offense to Gryffindor or anything, but Charlie was a really good Quidditch player. He even asked me out once in fifth year and I said yes, but then his ex got all mad at me and wanted him back. But why? I mean hello, he broke up with her, why would she want him back? We were both so mad, me and Charlie, but she started stocking us and stuff, oooh I wanted to kill her, she drove me so crazy. But finally we broke up and I don't think Charlie ever dated anymore because that stupid girl kept following him. I don't understand why she didn't just—"

"We're here!" Sirius said, glad to stop Dora's talking.

"Yea!" Dora shouted happily, her hair turning her favorite shade of pink. As usual, she was wearing one of her wizarding punk band t-shirts (Dueling Dragons) and as such, was not dressed appropriately for the weather. It was October, after all, and starting to get colder.

The two of them made their way up to the stands. There was no visitor section, so the teachers and the visitors had to share. Sirius sat down next to where Remus was and greeted him.

"Hello, Remus." They clasped hands in a brotherly manner.

"Hello, Sirius. How's life?" Remus asked cordially.

"Well. I'm actually mentoring someone right now. You remember my cousin, Nymphadora Tonks?" Sirius gestured toward Dora, who was sitting next to him.

She waved happily. "Hi Professor Lupin! Oh guess what? I got a new tattoo! It's a unicorn. Wanna see?"

"Actually, no thank you, Dora. The game's about to start." Remus looked a bit sick to his stomach. Sirius knew Remus hated tattoos, mainly because he hated the idea of needles being pressed into someone a thousand times. Once was enough for him.

"It's on my arm." Dora turned her left arm towards them. "See?"

"Shh!" Sirius said. "The game's starting."

&

Harry's stomach was in knots as he flew out onto the field with the rest of the team. He didn't know what he would do if he lost. What would Sirius say? Harry tried to see where Sirius was out in the stands, but there were too many people. Madame Hooch was standing out in the middle of the field with her whistle in hand, about to blow it.

"Now, I want a nice, clean game from all of you!" She ordered.

Harry looked over at the Ravenclaw team. Their captain, Roger Davies, was a handsome dark-haired boy with green eyes and dressed in the Ravenclaw colors of blue and silver. He and Wood shook hands briefly. Then, Harry noticed a very pretty girl with dark hair and dark eyes. She appeared to be of Chinese decent. Harry suddenly got a funny feeling inside his stomach, but he knew it wasn't nervousness.

Madame Hooch blew her whistle and both teams soared into the sky. Fred and George Weasley's best friend Lee Jordan was the commentator and was now naming all of the players on each team.

"For the Gryffindors, we have Keeper and Captain: Oliver Wood on a Daredevil; Chasers: Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, and Katherine Bell all riding Firestreams; Beaters: Frederick and George Weasley on Cleansweeps; and for the Seeker, we have our newest member, riding his brand-new, state of the art, priceless, three thousand-galleon, authentic—"

"JORDAN!" McGonagall's voice roared over the megaphone.

"Alright, alright. Good grief, Professor. Riding his Nimbus 2000 is Harry Potter!"

The whole crowd cheered and Lee began naming the members of the Ravenclaw team. Cho Chang was the pretty Seeker whom Harry noticed earlier. Her hair flew back behind her as she flew through the sky like an angel.

_Stop! _He ordered himself. _Concentrate! You have to win this game! _He flew around the stadium, trying to pay attention to the scores and find the Snitch at the same time. In the first four minutes, Angelina, despite her injured toe, had knocked the Quaffle into the Ravenclaw goal twice already, giving Gryffindor twenty points. She must have been playing for years.

It was rather cold now and the wind was causing Harry's glasses to become askew. _How are they staying on at all? _He wondered.

Suddenly, he noticed a little speck of gold out in the distance. _The Snitch! _Harry charged after it, looking around to make sure Cho didn't do the same.

She did. In fact, she was right on his tale. Harry tried to speed up faster, just as she did. Soon, they were neck-in-neck, broom-to-broom, parallel. The Snitch was getting closer, but so was the stadium wall. Harry was going so fast that the wall was scraping through his scarlet robes all the way to his arm. _That's going to need some bandaging later. _

Harry tried to move outward away from the wall, just as a giant Bludger flew toward him, barely missing him.

"I got your back, Harry!" Harry heard Fred Weasley yell at him as he swung his bat at the Bludger, knocking it away from both Harry and Cho.

No time for thank yous. Harry was catching up with the Snitch with every breath he took. It was inches away from him now. He stretched out his hand…moved his feet to where he could balance on his broom…He could hear the crowd cheering him on and Lee's voice shouting at him in the distance…Cho reached out to and mimicked Harry!

_No! _He told himself. _You have to win!_ As fast as he could, he knocked Cho's hand out of the way, feeling extremely guilty, although he knew he had to do it. His fingers touched the Snitch and soon they closed around it. Harry grabbed his broom with his free hand to keep balance. He let out a deep sigh and heard the entire crowd leap from the stands and shout.

Lee let out a loud "woop" and screamed into the megaphone. "HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!!"

The entire team crowded around Harry as he landed on the ground. Wood was literally in tears.

"We won…I can't believe it…we won…but, I knew we would."

The girls enveloped Harry in a big hug. "You were great, Harry," they said.

"Really great," Fred and George said in unison, patting Harry on the back.

"Great job, Harry." Cho was standing right behind him and smiling.

"Thanks…yeah, good job to you, too. I'm sorry I had to do that." Harry felt the guilt rising and his cheeks reddening.

"Don't be sorry," Cho made a wave motion with her hand, signifying that it wasn't a bother. "You had to do whatever you could to win."

She said goodbye and walked away, her black hair shimmering in the sun.

"Harry!"

Ron, Dean, Neville, and Seamus, along with all the other Gryffindors, came running toward Harry.

"You were great, mate!" said Ron.

"Fantastic!" piped up Neville.

"Awesome!" said Dean.

"Better than Krum!" said Seamus.

Harry rolled his eyes. Of course, he would never be as good as Krum.

"Harry!" A very familiar female voice called out from behind him.

"Dora!" He shouted, running toward her and giving her a big hug. Her bright pink hair illuminated her features in the sun and she had goose bumps on her arms.

"You were wonderful, Harry! Best Quidditch player ever!" She gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Dora." Then, Harry noticed something on her arm. "Hey! Is that a tattoo?"

"Yeah," Dora giggled. "Got it a couple weeks ago. It's a unicorn."

As Dora let go of his embrace, Harry noticed his godfather standing next to her with the widest smile on his face that Harry had ever seen him wear.

"Sirius!" Harry shouted with glee and jumped into his godfather's arms.

"I'm so proud of you, Harry." Sirius gave Harry a squeeze. "You did such a great job."

At that moment, Harry felt like the happiest boy in the world. This truly was the best day ever.

**End Note: **I hope you guys liked it. PLEASE give me some reviews, especially if you put this story on an alert list or a favorite story list or anything. There was barely any for the last chapter. And don't worry. Hermione will become friends with Harry in the next chapter. Speaking of which, this is the last chance to go to my profile and vote for what the tragedy will be. It's coming up next! Brace yourselves….

Beaucoup d'amour à tout le monde,

Amélie


	8. Fallen Dreams

Author's Note: Here it comes…the tragedy

**Author's Note: **Here it comes…the tragedy. See which one of your votes was correct…. PLEASE REVIEW!!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Eight: Fallen Dreams

The days following the Quidditch match were very eventful for Harry. The Gryffindors had thrown a huge party in celebration of his victory. Wood had danced around the school for about an hour singing a victory song and trying to rub it in on all the other Houses. Students whom he had never even spoken to before were talking to him, and several members of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams had offered for Harry to play for _them. _The teachers were constantly congratulating Harry on his achievement. Professor McGonagall even gave Harry a little golden pin that she had transfigured from a toothpick to reward him for winning the first match. She even put his name on the chalkboard with a sign that said "Shining Star." Hagrid, the half-giant gamekeeper, had made Harry a special snack one afternoon when he had invited Harry and his friends over for tea.

Unfortunately, the snack was not that appetizing at all. What Hagrid was were supposed to be chocolate chip cookies, looked and tasted like a bunch of hard, lumpy rocks. Dean had almost broken his teeth while biting into one. Ron refrained from eating them entirely, saying that he was allergic to chocolate.

Although the treats were rather unfit to eat, Harry figured that he had to be courteous and consented to taking some of the "cookies" back to school with him at Hagrid's offering.

After all, Hagrid had made them for Harry. He couldn't just say, "No, sorry, Hagrid. Your food's inedible."

Sirius had sent Harry a special set of Gobstones as a reward. The Gryffindor boys spent hours at night playing it. Neville ended up getting squirted in the face nine times, and Ron won six games.

All of this special treatment was wonderful. Harry even felt like the king of the world. Little did he know, that the most eventful day was approaching, and it wouldn't make him feel like a king anymore….

&

It was the Thursday after the match, five days later to be exact. There was nothing at all to foreshadow the upcoming sadness that the day would bring. The sun was shining brightly through the castle's thick, ornate windows. The first signs of autumn began to show as the leaves started to turn magnificent shades of orange and red and fell gracefully from the trees.

The first half of classes were normal. Ron had again failed at another experiment in Transfiguration, turning his match into half of a mouse instead of a whole one, as was the assignment. Neville had managed to knock over another cauldron of potion in Potions class, earning him what had to be his tenth detention so far this term.

Hermione Granger was absent from the second half of lunch, as was her custom, and had gone to the library to study, for she always complained about how horrible her concentration was when others were talking around her. When the teachers announced that lunch was over, all the students exited the Great Hall noisily.

The Gryffindor first years began to make their way to the staircase in order to get to the History of Magic classroom on the fourth floor.

Ron, as he had been doing all morning, was chatting all the way up the stairs about how Harry was going to be the best Quidditch player ever.

"Charlie couldn't even fly as well as you, especially after that time he broke his shoulder. It healed all right, but after that, he was always afraid that he might do it again, so he never flew as hard. Anyway, he was considered one of the best Quidditch players that the school had ever seen, and I _know _you'll be even better than—"

Ron was cut off from his sentence as Neville asked, "Hey! What's Malfoy doing?"

Draco Malfoy and his two goons Crabbe and Goyle were standing at the very top of the staircase with Hermione Granger, taunting her.

"My father says Mudbloods aren't really one of us," the snobby blond boy was saying. "They shouldn't be allowed to go to school here. So why don't you go back to your stupid Muggle family. No one likes you here, you ugly Mudblood. That's what I'll call you from now on! Mudblood! Mudblood!" He laughed.

Hermione's face was red, and tears were forming behind her large brown eyes.

"Stop it, Malfoy!" Harry yelled as he and the other Gryffindors reached the top of the stairs. "She didn't do anything to you."

"Of course she did!" Malfoy retorted. "By being born."

"You're the one who should have never been born, Malfoy!" Harry retorted back. "You're the dirty one!"

"You would think that, wouldn't you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Your godfather fills your head with all those thoughts. Why, my mother says he's the biggest traitor of them all, worse than all the Mudbloods of the world. Totally disrespectful of our family. If anyone should be tried for treason and Kissed by a dementor, it should be him. "

Harry felt a surge of red-hot anger build up inside him at these words. Sirius had not done anything wrong. He had done what was right and was far better than anyone else in his family.

"_You take that back!_" Harry said angrily, gritting his teeth.

Malfoy smiled slyly. "Make me, Potter."

Harry wanted nothing more than to punch Malfoy in the nose with all his might and watch him running away screaming cowardly. But he knew he couldn't. Even though Harry knew Sirius had gotten into trouble at school, he had never gotten involved in a fight, as far as Harry knew. If Harry did that, Sirius would be very angry.

So, he just stared back, waiting for Malfoy to leave so that everyone could go on to class. They were already late as it was.

But Malfoy did not leave. "Come on, Potter. Make me."

"No." Harry replied steadily. "Move. We have to get to class."

Harry made a move to walk past Malfoy, when suddenly, the latter dropped his textbooks on the ground and began pushing Harry backward.

"Come on, coward. Fight." Malfoy continued to push Harry backward. Everyone was terrified.

"Stop it, Malfoy!" yelled Ron, trying to pull Malfoy off of Harry. Dean, Seamus, and Neville tried to help.

"I'll tell a teacher!" Parvati threatened.

But, Malfoy would not listen. He and Harry were fighting at the edge of the staircase, ignoring everyone's screams and shouts.

&

Suddenly, before anyone could do a thing, Malfoy had pushed Harry so hard that he fell backward down to the very bottom of the stairs. A series of horrible loud cracks and thumps could be heard as the small boy hit the ground, unconscious.

Everyone screamed in terror. Ron, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender all ran to Harry's aid, ignoring Malfoy, who was still standing at the top of the stairs with Crabbe and Goyle and looking as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.

Several doors burst open from different directions and footsteps could be heard coming toward the scene. Professors McGonagall, Lupin, Flitwick, and Binns (the ghost History of Magic teacher) came running toward the students in total shock.

McGonagall gasped. Lupin turned ghost white and looked as though he might cry.

"Finnegan!" McGonagall's expression instantly changed from one of fear to one of sternness and order. "Go get Madame Pomphrey! Binns—" She turned to the History of Magic teacher. "Go get the Headmaster!"

Both Seamus and Binns did as they were told and were gone in a flash. Minutes later, Seamus came back with Madame Pomphrey along with several people dressed in lime green robes. They could only be Healers from St. Mungo's.

They conjured a heavy rolling hospital bed and used a spell to gently place Harry on it. All of the children began to cry and squeal in terror as the Healers rolled Harry out of the room and to St. Mungo's.

Binns arrived with Dumbledore just as the Healers were leaving. His face was set and stern. None of the children had ever seen him like that before.

"Into my office!" He ordered all the teachers and students. All of them obeyed without hesitation.

&

Dumbledore's office was large and filled with the strangest objects known to man. There were oddly shaped telescopes, models of planets and stars, and a sleeping phoenix that Dumbledore called Fawkes. Normally, all of this would be utterly fascinating to Remus. But not today. Today, the room seemed much darker and very foreboding. Nothing seemed amazing or out of the ordinary, just dark and foreboding. But that could have been psychological all the same.

Remus had never felt so scared and worried in his life. Out of all the tragedies he had gone through, this had to be the worst, the worst because no one knew what was going to happen. When dealing with a death, at least everyone knew what to expect. The person was dead and that was that. But in this situation, no one knew if Harry was going to live or die. The anxiety of not knowing was the worst thing anyone could ever experience.

Remus sat with the other Professors and the Gryffindor children, all cowering in fear and crying their eyes out. Even the boys were crying. Dumbledore stood in front of everyone, trying to get some answers.

"Please calm down, all of you." Instantly, all of the children looked up at him, alert.

"Now," Dumbledore began. "Will one of you calmly explain to all of us what happened."

Hermione Granger nodded and began the story. "I was on my way to History of Magic class when Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle met up with me. Malfoy started calling me a Mudblood and saying how I wasn't fit to go to this school. Then, Harry and the other Gryffindors saw us and tried to stop Malfoy. But then Malfoy started taunting and saying all these bad things about his godfather. About how he should be Kissed by a dementor or something; and then, Malfoy told Harry to fight him and—and—"

Hermione couldn't say anymore and began to sob.

Dumbledore turned to Severus Snape who was standing in the corner of Dumbledore's eccentric office, his ususal stern expression etched across his face.

"Severus, go find Mr. Malfoy and bring him here, please," Dumbledore said calmly, although he had a hard look in his blue eyes. "Minerva—" he turned to McGonagall—"please go take the students to their classroom. Bring Remus's students to your classroom and look after them while he is gone."

Remus's heart sank. His palms were sweating profusely. He knew exactly what he was going to have to do….

"Remus—"Dumbledore now turned to him. "I need you to—"

"Yes." Remus stood up immediately and nodded. "I'll do it."

He followed McGonagall, Snape, and the students silently out of the room and onto the revolving staircase.

&

Of all the days for the Ministry to be crowded and busy, it had to be this one. Remus pushed through the hoards and throngs of people as he made his way to the reception desk.

The brown-haired witch sitting behind the desk smiled politely at him.

"I don't have time for formalities." Remus knew it was rude, but he didn't care. This was an emergency. "Get me Sirius Black's office number. I need to speak with him. Right now."

"Yes, yes," said the witch, skimming through a large faculty book.

"HURRY!" Remus's heart was pounding faster than ever with a mixture of impatience and of not wanting to give Sirius the news. How would he tell him that his godson might be dying?

"Here it is." The witch pushed her spectacles up onto her nose. "Room 230. Fourth floor."

"Thank you." Remus ran up the stairs as fast as he could, moving everyone else out of the way as he went and skipping steps.

He ran down the hallway, trying to go over in his head exactly what he was going to say. But it didn't work. There was no way to say it to make it seem like it wasn't bad. Of course it was bad. It was one of the worst things that could possibly happen.

Finally, a white 230 on one of the office doors came into view. Remus knocked rapidly on the door and yelled, "Sirius! Open up! It's me! Remus!"

The door opened quickly. "Remus?" Sirius's tall, thin form was standing in the doorway, dressed in Auror robes.

"What is it?" He asked with a puzzled look on his face. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes." Remus knew the words came out strange, but he didn't care. Taking deep breath, he said slowly,"Something—something…happened to Harry…he's hurt really badly and—"

Sirius's face went so pale that it looked as though not a trace of blood was left in his body.

"Something happened to Harry?" A girl's voice asked worriedly. Nymphadora Tonks's head poked out from behind the door. Her hair changed instantly from a shade of pink to a rather mousy brown.

"What happened?" Sirius asked slowly, his whole body now shaking.

"He's in St. Mungo's," Remus began. "I'll explain on the way. Come on."

**End Note: **All in all, I was very impressed with all of your votes. I actually didn't think anyone would get it, and for a while you didn't, but then you surprised me. Do any of you know French? I'm asking because the title was actually meant to foreshadow and give away the tragedy. Anyway, good job to all of you, and I hope you like it. Please remember to review. Chapter Nine will hopefully be up soon.

Bonne Journée,

Amélie


	9. Outcomes

Author's Note: Hey, guys

**Author's Note: **Hey, guys! Summer vacation's here! So, hopefully, I'll have the chapters posted quicker. Enjoy Chapter Nine, and PLEASE REVIEW!!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Nine: Outcomes

There was only one other time in Sirius' life when he had been this afraid. It was the night when Lily and James had died. The same sickening feeling of panic and worry was overtaking Sirius just as it had that night, not knowing the outcome or the entire situation. He felt so sick that his head was aching and his stomach was so full of knots that he felt he might vomit. His hands and legs shook uncontrollably as he followed Remus and a Healer (with Dora trailing behind all three of them) down the long white hallways of St. Mungo's.

All he could think about was Harry, his Harry, the boy whom he had raised from babyhood. What would happen if Harry were to die? His, Sirius's, life would be worth nothing. There was no way that he could possibly go on living without his little boy….

_No, _Sirius told himself. He couldn't think about Harry dying. He had to remain positive. After all, he had no idea what Harry's condition was, and the Healers at St. Mungo's were some of the best in the world, stemming from all over the globe. Surely, they would be able to cure him and get him back to normal. Surely, they would….

But, tears were beginning to fog his vision. He clenched his shaking fists and let out a deep sigh to calm himself. Behind him, Dora gave a small worried sob.

Finally, after what felt like years, the Healer finally led them to the Intensive Care Unit on the fifth floor of the hospital. This had caught Sirius' attention the moment he had been informed as to where his godson was being kept.

_The _fifth _floor? _Sirius had asked himself in an outrage. _Why in the world would they put Intensive Care on the _fifth _floor of the hospital? The patients could die before they reached it._

Now, that he was finally there, however, he could care less about where it was, as long as it was doing some good for Harry. The Healer opened the door slowly, as though she were afraid to let the three who were following her into the room out of a fear that they would be too shocked at what they might see.

The room was very large. In fact, it was larger than the waiting room. Healers were performing all kinds of spells hurriedly and putting potions in IV tubes. There was a man who was covered in what looked to be third degree burns that could have only come from a dragon, a woman whose face was so swollen from some sort of rash that she was being given air through a tube, and finally, in the very back of the room, was a small jet-black haired boy, unresponsive and bones hanging limp at his sides.

The Healer led Sirius, Remus and Dora over to Harry's bed where four other Healers were standing over him, pointing their wands at different parts of his body, muttering different charms to fix his broken bones. He, like many of the other patients, had an IV full of a green potion inserted into his arm, presumably because he was unable to drink the potion.

"Andromeda!" Sirius said in a panicky voice to one of the Healers who was caring for Harry. She had long brown hair and pretty brown eyes, and her wand, flashing different colors, was pointed at Harry's chest. "Is he going to be okay?"

Andromeda Tonks turned around and gave a sigh. "He's broken a lot of bones already," she replied solemnly. "If my wand glows purple, it means he probably has a few broken ribs, too." Sure enough, as soon as she spoke, the tip of her wand emitted a strong violet light.

"But, that can be fixed. Right, Mum?" Dora asked squeakily from next to Sirius. Her face was now very pale and her hair had turned ashy brown. "All the bones, I mean."

Andromeda's brown eyes began to fog over, making Sirius' insides churn and his palms grow sweaty.

"Well, _bones, _yes," she replied hesitantly. "As you can see, we're in the process of fixing them already, but—" she turned to Sirius and looked him in the eye—"that's not the only problem we've found."

Now, Sirius felt as though his heart were about to rip in half. He didn't know if he could take this. He wanted to scream with all his might. But, he kept a firm face as he stared back at his favorite cousin, feeling the blood drain more and more from his face and down to his toes.

"When Harry fell…." Andromeda paused, keeping her eyes fixed on Sirius. He wished she would just spit it out. The suspense was killing him, but he was lost for words. They seemed to be trapped down in the bottom of his throat. "When Harry fell…he damaged his spinal cord."

Sirius now felt like were about to have a heart attack. Everyone around him had gone quiet. The whole world had stopped. He began breathing heavily.

"Unfortunately," Andromeda began again. "Spinal cord injuries, most of the time, can't be fixed. Even by magical means. The nerves that the spinal cord controls are too many and far too complex. There hasn't been any spell or potion created to fix an injury like this, especially one this bad. So…Harry's probably going to be paralyzed…."

Sirius was frozen solid, staring at Andromeda in shock. On either side of him, Dora and Remus were trembling and wide-eyed. Dora had tears in her eyes and was biting the nails off her fingers, all the way down to the skin.

"But, that's not all…." Andromeda was crying now, too, turning to look at Harry, who was almost almost lifeless, on the bed. She was silent for a whole sixty seconds. "He also damaged his occipital lobe in the very back of his brain… It-it's what controls vision…." She paused, knowing that she did not need to say anymore.

Dora burst out crying, bawling her eyes out and hugging her mother with all her might. Tears were now streaming down Remus's face as well.

But, Sirius couldn't take it. He fell onto his knees and screamed as loud as he ever had, tears flowing down his cheeks as though his eyes were waterfalls on a rainy day.

.

&

The four Heads of Houses and Professor Dumbledore were seated quietly in Dumbledore's eccentric office, waiting for Draco Malfoy to give some answers. But so far, the boy was not cooperating, as was almost always the case with him.

But, Dumbledore, in his never-ending patience, sat back calmly in his elegant armchair and ever so quietly repeated his question, his crystal blue eyes still twinkling.

"Mr. Malfoy, I will ask again. Why did you push Mr. Potter down the staircase? Of course, you knew what the consequences of your actions would be, did you not?"

Malfoy still looked rather defiant for a while as the Headmaster gazed back at him. For after another few moments, the rest of the teachers could tell that Malfoy was beginning to be under pressure. His face was turner paler as the seconds passed and it was becoming harder for him to keep his gaze centered on Dumbledore. His eyes were beginning to wander to his feet and to the magnificent gadgets that filled the office.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore repeated the boy's name gently. "If you do not answer me, there will be serious costs."

The last part was a bit unnecessary for Dumbledore to add. Malfoy was already facing a serious cost: expulsion for harming another student.

Finally, the boy spoke up, becoming defiant once more. "You can't do anything to me. My father is one of the governors presiding over this school and if—"

This time, it was Professor McGonagall who spoke up in her usual strict voice, her eyes beady and boring into Malfoy's like Muggle drills. "Mr. Malfoy, your father only has a say in matters concerning the staff and educational curriculum at this school. We, the Headmaster and staff, have control over the students, and we have made the decision that you will be expelled for the remainder of the term for your misconduct."

"What?" Malfoy began to panic and his entire body became jittery. "My father won't stand for this! He'll kill me if I'm expelled, no matter what the reason. He will… he'll kill me. I know it…."

"He won't kill, you stupid boy," Snape snarled, his black eyes flashing dangerously. "Beat you, perhaps, but not kill you."

**End Note: **I hope you liked this chapter. Was everyone in character? I hope so. Please tell me what I need to fix or what you would like to see later. Next chapter: Remus tells the Gryffindors (Ron, Hermione, Neville, etc.) about Harry's condition, and Lucius Malfoy comes to Hogwarts to deal with his son. Oh, and by the way, you guys are probably wondering about the Harry defeating Voldemort thing, right? Well, don't worry. It will be taken care of. Stay tuned!

À Bientôt,

Amélie


	10. Truth and Punishment

Author's Note: Here's Chapter Ten

**Author's Note: **Here's Chapter Ten. I hope you guys like it. It looks like I'm going to be concentrating much more on this story this summer instead of my other one on account of nobody seems to want to read that one (hint, hint…wink, wink….) Enjoy and please remember to review!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Ten: Truth and Punishment

It had to be one of the hardest tasks Remus had ever done in his life. No—not _one _of the hardest—_the _hardest. How would he begin? How could he possibly remain strong for them all?

Perhaps it would have been more proper for Minerva to do it. After all, she was their Head of House. But, unfortunately, she didn't know all the details, and Remus was, as many of the students had admitted, a much more approachable and gentle teacher. Minerva McGonagall was strict and stern and probably wasn't the best person to deal with panicking children; and after today, the children would be panicking a lot.

, By the time Remus had returned from the hospital, classes had ended and the students had been sent to their dormitories. Gradually, he ascended the magnificent marble staircase to Gryffindor Tower. Gazing down at the stairs below him, it scared Remus to think that only hours before, the staircase on which he walked had caused Harry what was probably life-altering damages. This staircase, what with leading the way to all the classrooms and educational opportunities, it shaped the life of so many students. So many for centuries had walked up this staircase and into the classrooms to which it led, to come out successful and bright adults, altering their lives forever. It was ironic how it had also shaped Harry's life, but in the opposite way of all the other students, causing him misery.

One could only hope that no other students were to suffer as much as Harry had.

Finally, after what seemed like decades, he reached Gryffindor Tower, his feet feeling as though they had a ship's anchor attached to them. The Fat Lady's portrait looked solemnly at Remus as she asked him the password. It was as if the whole castle were grieving over the tragedy.

"Pickled Toad," he responded. All the teachers were required to know the passwords to all of the dormitories just in case of emergencies, and Remus would consider this along the lines of an emergency, or at least an urgent situation.

The portrait swung open, revealing all of the Gryffindor first years and several other students, notably Oliver Wood and the Weasley twins, sitting around the fireplace, on the sofas, and in the fluffy armchairs that were placed throughout the room. It was much smaller than Remus remembered it being, and much gloomier, but that appeared to be the result of the scared and worried looks on all of the students' faces which greeted him as entered the room.

"Hello, everyone," he said quietly, watching all of the children pale at the sight of him. Strangely, there were no outbursts from any of the students. In all honesty, Remus had expected all the children to start bombarding him with questions about Harry as soon as he walked through the doorway.

"Hello, Professor Lupin." It was as though a band of Inferi was staring back at him. Remus could make out nothing but dead, empty emotion in their greeting. He knew this was going to be hard to explain. If they were this depressed before he had even begun to tell them the news, there was no telling what to expect as to how they would act after he told them.

He walked over and sat down in one of the armchairs near the fireplace so that all the students could see him when he spoke. Gripping the arms of the chair to relax himself (however much he _could_ relax), he took a deep breath and began to explain Harry's condition.

"The Healers have predicted that, unless there is a drastic change in Harry's improvement, he will not be returning to school this year." Remus waited for this information to sink in before continuing.

Hermione Granger, Parvati Patil, and Lavender Brown, seated on the floor in front of Remus, began to sob. Ron Weasley, also sitting on the floor, was visibly shaking. Neville Longbottom was fidgeting absentmindedly with a tassel on the armchair he was occupying. Dean Thomas was as still as stone, and Seamus Finnegan was biting his fingernails, much like Nymphadora Tonks had done. The other children staring quietly back, waiting to hear the rest.

"He is still unconscious as of right now, but the Healers were able to determine that he is—" Remus let out another deep breath, his stomach tightening into the biggest knot he that it could form—"both blind…and paralyzed…from the waist downward."

Hermione let out a dreadfully loud sob and began crying hysterically into her hands.  
The other two girls began whimpering and all the boys started screaming, the loudest Remus had ever heard boys do so.

He tried to think of words to calm them down, but what could he say when there was nothing _calm _about this situation?

Finally, Dean came back to his senses and spoke up. "Will he _ever _recover, Professor?"

At that question, everyone stopped crying and looked to their professor expectantly, silently.

"Yeah, w-will he?" Neville's brown eyes were wide with hope.

Remus felt like he had just been torn in half. It was the worst feeling he had ever had in his life.

"I don't know, but hopefully so…. Hopefully…."

&

"Sit down, Draco."

Cold gray eyes stared down at him like an angry stormy sky. The silky black robes reminded Draco of the picture he had seen in his Defense Against the Dark Arts book of the black fortress of Nurmengard prison, ominous and hostile, daring anyone to stand up to it. Slowly and nervously, feeling as though his knees would buckle underneath him at any moment, Draco sat down in a wooden chair across from his father's menacing figure, in a vacant room that Dumbledore had set aside for the two Malfoys to "talk".

Lucius Malfoy had arrived at Hogwarts twenty minutes earlier, outraged and furious at both Dumbledore and Draco: Dumbledore, for expelling Draco, and Draco, for facing expulsion. He knew that Dumbledore's decision was final and that there was nothing he could do to alter it, even if he were a governor of the school. So, he had chosen to take most of his anger out on his son. But of course, he was not angry with Draco for merely harming another student. On the contrary, harming Harry Potter in Lucius's eyes was one of the greatest things that could ever happen. Now, the Dark Lord would have a chance at reigning over the Wizarding world at last. In fact, Lucius was undeniably proud of Draco for his actions.

It was the fact that Draco had chosen to do it so publicly and foolishly. Now, because of course of action, his educational career was ruined. With this record, there was barely any chance of Draco getting a proper job. Any good career consultant would shun a person for expulsion from school and Lucius knew that Draco was no exception to any person. He would be a disgrace to the Malfoy family, Lucius was sure of it.

"Why am I here, Draco?" Lucius asked his son as soon as the boy had taken a seat, growing very pale and rigid every passing moment. Of course, Lucius knew the reason for having been dragged to the school from his work at the Ministry, but Draco figured he wanted to ask him just so he could be humiliated and feel guilty for what he had done. It was always his father's custom to do so when Draco got into trouble.

The child's palms began to sweat as his father's glare continued to bore into him like a vulture waiting for its prey to die. Draco knew that his father was going to whip him for this, no doubt about it.

"Tell me, Draco." Lucius's voice became harder and colder, but did not rise. Draco hated when his father's voice stayed at steady levels during times like this. It meant that he was in his highest state of rage.

He crossed his arms and strode slowly over to Draco's chair, finally stopping when his face was just inches from Draco's, his long blond hair falling over his shoulders and framing his eyes like curtains to windows; dark, haunted windows.

Draco knew he had to answer now, but began stuttering as the words came out and he couldn't control the tears that were now escaping from his eyes. His father was the only person who could ever make him cry.

"B-b-beca—"

"Spit it out, child!" His father's eyes were now burning devilishly. Lucius gripped Draco's shoulders, forcing him to look his father in the eye.

"BECAUSE I GOT EXPELLED!" Draco gasped in horror and began to cry harder. He knew that was a mistake. He could not _ever _yell at his father. It was the worst thing that he could possibly ever do, even worse than expulsion from school.

Lucius' calm demeanor switched immediately to one of absolute rage. Without warning, he smacked his eleven-year-old son across the face with his right hand so hard that Draco was knocked off the chair and onto the floor, barely catching his balance with his outstretched hands.

Draco could feel the mark that his father had left on his cheek burning angrily into his face. He could only imagine the nasty handprint that could be branded there, a mark to the world of his shame and disobedience.

But, predictably, Lucius was not done with punishing his son. He held down Draco with one hand in the small of his back and beat his bottom with the cane in which he used to hide his wand. The pain so severe that it seared through Draco's entire body, making him scream with all his might. He didn't care if the whole school heard him. He didn't care.

He just needed to scream….

Finally, Lucius stopped beating him and turned his son over to look at him. Draco's face was now bright red, both from the tears and from his father's handprint. His eyes were puffy and swollen.

"It will be a lot worse next time, Draco," Lucius warned, his gray eyes still flashing threateningly.

**End Note: **I hope you guys liked this chapter. I did. Anyway, next chapter Harry wakes up from his coma, the Gryffindor first years have a talk, and Draco gets hit with even more consequences of expulsion. Please review!

Au Revoir,

Amélie


	11. The Awakening, The Planning, and The Sha

Author's Note: Hey guys

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! Thank you so much for all of your marvelous reviews! I hope you like this chapter. It will be much longer than the last one, I promise.

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Eleven: The Awakening, The Planning, and The Shame

It had been a week and Harry was still unresponsive. Despite all the potions and ointments, livid bruises were still present on his arms and neck where he had fallen, and his face was a pale as a ghost's. His hair was greasy from lack of bathing, and it was as unkempt as Sirius had ever seen it. Never in his life had Sirius seen Harry look so miserable. But, Sirius couldn't help thinking how much more miserable he would be once he awoke….

How would he react to being both blind _and _paralyzed? Those who were born blind and crippled were able to adapt easy to their conditions, but not those who _became _that way. They were used to seeing and walking, and as such, it was hard for them to get used to their circumstances. But, Harry would have to, Sirius knew. He would _have_ to get used to life as an invalid, no matter what the cost, and Sirius would be with him all the way.

The Healers had moved Harry out of Intensive Care and into a private room three days prior, after all of his bones had been healed properly. He was still being given an IV in his arm for nutritional purposes since he could not eat on his own, and according to what Andromeda had told Sirius, he probably wouldn't be able to eat certain foods for awhile (solid foods were definitely off limits for at least the first week) after he woke up, because his body would need some time to adjust to eating normally again.

As to how long Harry would remain in his coma, Andromeda could not make an estimate. She had seen a wide range of comas, some lasting mere days, others, months. Sirius had not been able to stay at the hospital the entire week on account of work. (Minister Fudge would not give him permission to be absent from the Auror field for _any _reason or would otherwise fire him, which was something that Sirius could not afford to happen, especially not now. Besides, Dora needed to train. She couldn't just stop this early.) But he would stop by every night to see Harry. He had even slept in the hospital a few times.

He was currently sitting in a chair next to Harry's bed, the light from the crescent moon outside trying desperately to shine through the window, but not succeeding due to the amount of light that was present in the hospital room.

Dora was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, her hair now long and black and streaked neon blue. She was busy showing off her creativity skills by making flowers for Harry out of papier-mâché, using a touch of magic to make the flowers sing. Sirius did not particularly like what Dora was doing. Not because Harry wouldn't be able to see the flowers. On the contrary, he thought it was lovely that Dora was devoting her time to making Harry a get well present. He just didn't like the fact that she was making _flowers. _How many boys liked _flowers_?

Sirius snapped his head towards the door as he heard the knob turn. He had been so deep in thought that the abrupt opening of the door startled him, but he smiled slightly when he noticed Andromeda, in her lime green Healer robes, walk into the room.

"Has he made any progress yet?" She asked quietly, walking over to Harry's bed. "Any signs of movement?"

"No," Sirius replied sadly, staring down at his godson's still form.

"Well, don't be discouraged, Sirius." His favorite cousin patted him on the shoulder. "He'll wake up. It might just take him a while. After all, it _was_ a _very _nasty fall."

Dora hopped out of her place in the corner and came over to stand next to her mother.

"And his brain'll be normal, right, Mum?" the teenager asked. "He won't have amnesia or anything, right?"

"It should be." But, Andromeda's voice was uncertain. "We won't know for sure until he wakes, but there's nothing that we could find that showed signs of brain damage."

Now _that _haunted Sirius more than anything else. He didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't avoid it. What if Harry _did _have amnesia or some other brain damage, like mental retardation? The thought made him want to scream. He could feel the tears forming behind his eyes….

But, suddenly, hope flooded into his body, and his heart began to race. Harry's fingers had just begun to move!

&

His head was aching violently, spinning around like one of those Muggle merry-go-rounds that Jesse had always made him go on when they were in primary school. Distantly, he could hear someone call his name. Then, someone else. Then, another. But, he couldn't make out who they were. Their voices were so distant and his head was aching so much that he could barely make sense of anything.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he recognized the voice of his godfather. He felt his eyelids open, but all he saw was black. He couldn't be awake.

"Harry…." He heard Sirius's voice again, this time sounding much more relaxed and relieved.

Then, Harry remembered! Malfoy had pushed him down the stairs. But, where was he now? Was he still at Hogwarts? Or at the hospital? He was so confused…he still couldn't see…and had just noticed that he could not move his legs. He couldn't even _feel _them. It was like the lower half of his body was missing, and that only happened in dreams. There was a sharp pain in his right arm. He knew it was a needle. He must have been in the hospital.

"Harry…." Sirius's low, calm voice sounded again. Harry felt a hand brush across his forehead. He felt himself blink, could feel his eyeballs moving, searching for the source of the voice, but he still saw nothing.

Only blackness.

"Harry? Can you understand us?" It was one of the other two voices he had heard earlier. A woman's voice. It was familiar, but he couldn't think of who the voice belonged to.

"Say something, honey." The same woman's voice.

Someone's hand reached out and took his own. It was larger than his, but warm and smooth. It was Sirius'. The pain in his arm seemed to be melting away now.

"Come on, Harry. Say something." His godfather's tone was worried now.

It was frustrating. He couldn't see any of these people, but he knew they were there. What was going on?

"W-where am I? What's going on?" He finally spoke, but it felt like he was speaking to air. It was as if the people he were speaking to weren't there.

"You're in St. Mungo's, Harry." The woman's voice again. "You came here after you fell…you've been in a coma for a week."

Now, he recognized her! It was Andromeda, Dora's mother.

"I can't see." Harry said. He heard someone squeal as he spoke the last word. Now, _that _was Dora, Harry knew. No one else squealed like that, except maybe Neville Longbottom. "And I can't get up…my legs won't move."

"We know, Harry." Andromeda's voice was sad and suddenly far away again.

&

The Gryffindor first years had spent every waking hour after school that week discussing ways in which they could help Harry. Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender had spent countless hours in the library looking up cures for Harry's condition. Surprisingly, Madame Pince had a great deal of medical journals stored away in her library. Unfortunately, none of them offered a cure for nerve damage of any sort. Besides, chances were that if the Healers at St. Mungo's didn't have a cure, then there really wasn't one out there.

So, the children tried to think of other ways to help their poor friend.

"I think we should throw Harry a party or something," Lavender suggested that night as the seven first years sat in the cozy comfort of their common room. It was rather late and everyone else had gone to their dormitories, so they had the whole place to themselves. "I mean, he's really hurt, and he probably won't ever be the same Harry again. We need to show him that we really care about him."

"But how could we throw him a party?" asked Dean. "We've talked about helping him and all, but how can we do it if he's not coming back to school?"

"Simple." Hermione spoke up in her usual know-it-all voice. "We can go see him on weekends. We can ask Professor McGonagall, or how about Lupin? He'd sure let us go."

"But, where would we get presents for him?" asked Neville, his face glowing from the light of the fireplace. "We definitely _have _to get him presents, he's been through so much."

Everyone nodded in agreement. Harry deserved to receive something after all the trouble that he had been through. Even if he couldn't see the presents, they knew that he would appreciate his friends' giving them to him. There was no way any of his friends would leave Harry empty-handed. But, actually getting presents would be hard to do. They could always make their gifts, but none of them, apart from Parvati and Dean, were all that creative. But, there was no real place for them to buy presents.

"What about Hogsmeade?" Ron asked curiously from his position on the velvety red sofa. "I'm sure it would have cool stuff for Harry."

"Yeah, Ron." Hermione said. "But, you're forgetting that we're _first _years. We can't go to Hogsmeade unless we're in third year."

"But this is an emergency." Seamus spoke up from over beside Neville on the floor. "The teachers'll understand why we need to go, especially Lupin. I wouldn't be surprised if he's getting Harry a present, too."

"Yeah," said Parvati, perched on the sofa next to Lavender. "The teachers have to be understanding about this. They know how much we love Harry. Well, most of them do. Snape sure doesn't."

"When do we want to do all of this?" asked Neville. "It's hard to plan ahead since we don't know about the teachers' schedules."

That was true. The teachers had a bad habit of sneaking lots of weekend work on the students. They rarely had time for anything else, and parties were a huge deal. They would need a completely free weekend to have one, _several_ completely free weekends, in fact, if one were to count the amount of time they would need to get all the presents.

"Well, first, before we do anything else, we have to see when Harry gets out of the hospital," said Lavender. "He hasn't even woken up yet; and we have to ask his godfather. We can't just go barging in his house whenever we want. We don't even know where he lives."

"We can ask the teachers ahead of time what we're going to be doing in class so that we can get our work done faster," said Hermione. "I do that anyway, just to be prepared."

She saw the sarcastic looks on all of their faces and remarked, "but look how much it's paid off! I get all my work done before any of you. And now we're going to need to do it if we want to do this for Harry."

She had a point there. But, the truth was that Hermione Granger _always _had a point. She was always right no matter what, and it drove the rest of them bonkers.

"Fine," said Ron annoyed. "We'll do all our work early." Then, he changed the subject back to the actual party, something that he was much more keen on talking about. "What else are we going to do? Do we just want to bring him presents?"

"Well, I was thinking about making him steamers," commented Parvati. She had dozens of different patterns of cloth from India in her trunk that would make beautiful party decorations. "But, since Harry won't be able to, you know, see them…." She looked as though she were about to cry.

"Go ahead and make him some streamers," said Neville, reaching up and patting her ankle. "He'll like them, just because they came from you."

"So it's settled." Hermione was always the one to lay out the blueprints of a situation. "We can ask the teachers if we can send an owl to Harry's godfather, asking if we can have a party. Then, we get all of our homework done on time so that we can have a few free weekends. Finally, we'll go to Hogsmeade and buy Harry presents. It seems like it could work."

"We'll make it the best party Harry's ever had," said Ron, smiling.

&

Draco couldn't believe he was doing this! It was servant's work! Cleaning bathrooms, washing dirty dishes! It was a nightmare. His clothes smelled horrible and the suds from the soapy cleaner he was using had splashed all in his eyes. It was the worst experience ever. He knew he couldn't complain, however. Not after what happened last week. No, way. Draco promised himself that he would drink basilisk venom before complaining to his father about anything. But, still. It was humiliating! Atrocious! A person of _his _stature was not supposed to have to suffer through this.

But was it really _his _stature anymore? His father certainly wasn't acting as if that were so. As soon as Draco had arrived home from school, Lucius divided all the chores in the house between his son and the Malfoy family House-Elf, Dobby. Before, Dobby had done _all _the chores: the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, everything. But, now, Draco had to do take care of all the messy chores, like those that he was currently doing, or sweeping the floor or cleaning the attic, the messiest place in the house. More than once, a spider had fallen on his head and gnats had crawled up his arms and legs, giving him the worst itching rash he had ever experienced; and all the while, Lucius did nothing to ease his misery. In fact, he just made it worse with that one dreadful sentence that he kept repeating.

"This is what happens to children who chose to ruin their lives, Draco."

_Children who chose to ruin their lives. _It brought Draco so much shame and guilt. He truly was unworthy. No, the Malfoy stature was not his anymore. He was an outcast, a disgrace. Even his mother, who had always been there to comfort him in the past, had no sympathy for him. She would hardly even look at him.

He started to think of Dobby and how horrible the Malfoy family had always been to him, pushing him around, treating him as if he had no place, nowhere to go in life. He himself had always thought of Dobby as being just a worthless creature, but now, his opinion was changing. He understood Dobby's position and how awful he must have felt after every day, working so hard, only to have noses be turned up at him. It was the saddest feeling in the world….

But, he couldn't think about that right now. He had to make the bathroom sparkly clean before his father came in to check on him again. Last time Lucius had walked in, the bathroom was not even a quarter of the way clean, and Draco had been chided rather badly. His arms had the angry bruises to prove it. He got down on his hands and knees and scrubbed the outsides of the commode with his sponge. It was disgusting. Before, he never really given any thought to how dirty bathrooms really were, but now he felt like reprimanding himself for how ignorant he used to be.

He heard the doorknob turn behind him. He held his breath, not wanting to look whoever it was walking in the bathroom in the eye. His stomach felt as if a snake were slithering around inside of it.

"Dobby has brought Master Draco some water."

Draco sighed in relief. It was only Dobby. The boy turned around and saw the pillowcase-clad Elf carrying a little glass filled almost to the brim with water.

"Thank you, Dobby." Draco's words surprised himself. He had never shown manners to Dobby in his life. Perhaps it was his understanding and sympathy for the Elf that made him act polite at that moment. But, in all seriousness, he _liked_ it. And apparently, so did Dobby.

The Elf smiled as he handed Draco the glass. The refreshing feeling of cool water flowing down his throat gave him a boost of energy.

"Thanks again, Dobby." Draco repeated after he had handed his now empty glass back to the Elf. Then, he added suddenly, "Dobby, I'm sorry that I'm always mistreating you. I promise I won't ever do it again."

"Dobby is not angry with Master Draco. He knows how sad Master Draco is. But, Dobby knows Master Draco's sadness will turn into happiness one day."

**End Note: **I really hope you guys liked that chapter. I liked it pretty well for the most part. Was it long enough for all of you? I'll try to make the rest of the chapters at least this long. Stay tuned for Chapter Twelve, where Harry goes home, Oliver Wood gets in a fist fight with Marcus Flint (Don't worry. Nobody gets expelled this time.), and some other cool stuff! It's coming soon!

Bonne Journée,

Amélie


	12. Home Sweet Fisticuffs

Author's Note: Hey guys

**Author's Note: **Hey guys. Sorry for the wait. I've been working on my other story (which seems to be a failure. Barely anyone is reading it. I'm really depressed. And if you guys don't know, that's a hint to please go read it.) Anyway, I can come back to this story now. I hope you like Chapter Twelve.

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Twelve: Home Sweet Fisticuffs

Harry still couldn't believe that this was real. There was no _way _that he could be like this. But, he was afraid to open his eyes. He didn't want to see blackness. The white walls of the hospital would be so much better than blackness, and this was odd, considering how just a year ago, the hospital was the last place that he ever wanted to see. But not now. Now, seeing _anything _would be better than seeing blackness.

He knew his eyes couldn't stay shut for long. He felt them open, and sure enough, there was blackness. No other colors of any sort. Yet, he knew he was still in the hospital. The unmistakable smell of bandage ointment and medical potions filled the air, and he could feel the linen sheets underneath him. His head was still thumping, but the pain had decreased over the days.

"Is anyone here?" Harry heard himself ask, although his voice was very hoarse, more than he had ever heard it being. He turned his head around to the left side. But that was practically all he could move. His lower body was only air and numbness now.

Suddenly, an overwhelming fear of panic swept over him. What would happen if there was an emergency and the hospital had to be evacuated? How would he get out? What if the Healers couldn't get to him in time? And where was Sirius? What if something happened to _him_? Where would Harry live? He would probably be locked away in the hospital for the rest of his life. The thought made Harry cry. He could feel the tears running down his cheeks. He needed Sirius. He didn't _want _to be stuck in the hospital with people he didn't know and didn't love him and only took care of him because they got paid. No, Sirius had to be with him! He couldn't abandon him.

"Sirius!" His crying turned into sobbing. The tears were down the pillowcase, he knew, and the pounding in his head was becoming more profound.

"Oh, Harry! I'm sorry! I fell asleep!" It was Dora's voice. Harry heard her running over towards the bed and felt a kiss being planted on his wet cheek. She began stroking his hair, repeating over and over again how sorry she was for not hearing him.

"Mum wanted me to stay in here with you in case you woke up. She had to go see another patient. I'm really, really, sorry I fell asleep. We just did so much during training today. Sirius had me doing all kinds of these hardcore defense spells. They really gave me a workout."

"Where is Sirius?" Harry asked, taking hold of Dora's hand. He wanted to make absolutely sure she was there and wouldn't leave.

"He's still at the Ministry," Dora explained. "He wanted to talk some sense into Fudge about letting him have some time off so that he can stay home with you for a while." She went on and started to sound as though she were speaking more to herself than to Harry.

"He's a real meanie, Fudge is. He always glares at me when I see him now, and he just calls me 'that girl who broke my statue.' But, I don't see what the big deal is. It wasn't even a _nice _statue. And why does he have statues, anyway? None of the other Ministers had statues of themselves. How's he so all-powerful that he needs to have them? I mean, _Grindelwald _had all kinds of statues of himself and he was like an evil dictator guy. Is that what Fudge is trying to be? An evil dictator? And anyway, even if that _is _what he's trying to be, he still shouldn't have any statues of himself. I mean, Grindelwald actually had the face and the looks for a statue, you know, tall and a nice lean build and hair and stuff, but Fudge is just some ugly old guy with a huge gut who needs to spend some serious time doing sit-ups—" she chuckled sheepishly—"kind of like my dad. It wouldn't kill him to lose a few pounds, either. Oh, yeah, and he's still there, too. He wanted to give Sirius some support and be there to give Fudge a good punch in the face, you know, just in case he goes all A-wall and stuff. But, Mum warned him not to do anything like that, though. 'Cause, you know, if he does, Fudge'll sure as heck fire him, and that wouldn't be good. I doubt Dad'll hurt him, though. He normally just threatens stuff like that for the heck of it. I don't think he's ever _really _hit anybody."

Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud at everything Dora had just said, and the best part was that she didn't even know it was funny. He was very comforted with her beside him. She was like his big sister, and he loved her for being able to always make him happy, even in times like these.

&

Sirius had never been so upset in his entire life. Cornelius Fudge was absolutely the most selfish, the most arrogant, and the most uncaring man he had ever met. He had no compassion whatsoever for Harry's condition and would rather see Harry spend the rest of his life in the hospital than see Sirius spend a week off duty.

And that was all Sirius was asking for: one week. Of course, he would take the rest of his life off work if he could, but that was impossible, he knew. One week was all he wanted. He figured he would spend it home with Harry and then find someone to stay home with him during the day, perhaps someone who could teach him braille or maybe a physical therapist who could help him with his paralysis. Then, he could come home at night and take care of Harry himself.

"You already have weekends off," Fudge kept saying, twirling that ugly lime green bowler hat he always wore around in his hands.

"All I want is one week. That's all." Sirius could feel his face reddening in anger. He gripped the arms of his chair to try and control an outburst. Beside him, Ted Tonks wore the same angry expression and looked as though he were going to knock Fudge to the ground.

And in reality, he probably could. He was good deal taller than Fudge and was rather big-bellied, probably weighing a bit more than Fudge, although the latter was quite heavy himself.

"Sirius," Fudge's awkward smile was trying to hide his anger and annoyance, but it wasn't working in the slightest. "You are one of the best Aurors in this country. If I let you go, do you know how many criminals would continue to roam the streets?" Then, he added in a mockingly sweet tone, "We certainly couldn't have that. All those poor people's lives in danger."

The rage was boiling inside Sirius now. He knew exactly why Fudge wanted him to keep working and it certainly wasn't for the well being of the wizards of Britain. If Sirius were let go, then Fudge would be blamed for the high crime rate in the country and his popularity would fall very low. Sirius couldn't believe how anyone could be so selfish.

Finally, Ted spoke up in his booming voice. "How would _you _like it if your child were in Harry's condition? Wouldn't you want some time off so that you could spend time with him?"

"I don't have any children," Fudge retorted, smiling broadly now. "And if you yell at me like that again, Ted, then I'll have to call someone to escort you out of my office."

Ted was utterly appalled by all of what Fudge had just said. He mouth dropped open and he clenched his fists together. Then, quite unexpectedly, he stood up and looked directly at Sirius, as if to say, _we've done enough. He's not helping us. _

Sirius nodded. "Thank you for your time, _Minister._" The sentence came off Sirius's tongue like acid. He turned without a reply from Fudge and opened the door for himself and Ted, who turned his nose up at the Minister and stomped his way out the door.

" '_I don't have any children,_'" Ted repeated in rather well done imitation of Fudge as he and Sirius descended the stairs. "I've never heard _anyone _be that sarcastic and disrespectful! I'm sorry, Sirius." He put his hand on Sirius' shoulder. "I wish there were something I could do."

Sirius turned around and smiled slightly. "You already did, Ted. You stood up for me and tried to defend me. You don't need to do anything else."

Suddenly, someone behind them called Sirius' name. A woman came running down the stairs and stopped behind Sirius and Ted. She was about Sirius' age and had long blonde hair. She looked vaguely familiar to Sirius, but he couldn't remember exactly where he had seen her. But, of course, since she worked at the Ministry, chances were that he'd seen her passing in the hallways a few times. So, it was stupid for Sirius to ask himself where he'd seen her.

"Hello, Mr. Black," she said happily with a wide smile. She shook hands with Sirius, which he found rather awkward. People didn't usually shake his hand on staircases. "Wait." She looked at him uncertainly. "You are Sirius Black, right?"

"Yes. That's me." Sirius chuckled.

"Good. Sorry," she said, smiling nervously, her brown eyes wide. She reminded him sort what of Dora "It's just sometimes come up to people thinking they're someone and they turn out to be someone different. Anyway, I'm sorry to catch you so late, but I heard about your little boy and I was wondering if maybe I could be of some help." She went on without waiting for a response. "You see, my younger brother's blind and we all learned braille to help him read, and I was wondering if maybe I could be of some help to Harry, you know, if he need some, which… I'm sure he probably does."

Sirius was surprised. Someone was actually _offering _to help Harry rather than having to be asked.

"Of-of course you can help. We really need all the help we can get. But—" Sirius was hesitant about giving away his place of residence to a stranger, especially now. "—I'll have to give you my address some other time. Not here. Meet me tomorrow outside my office. It's room 230."

The woman nodded. "Sure, tomorrow. I can come. Oh, my name's Jana Wilder, by the way. We've met before, I think."

Now Sirius remembered where he had seen her before. She was the woman who had contacted Dumbledore the night of Lily and James' death, when Sirius had come into the Ministry with Peter petrified.

"Yes, I remember you," Sirius replied. Then, realizing Ted was still standing beside him, he decided to introduce him. "Oh, and this is my friend, Ted Tonks. He works in the Department of Magical Transportation."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Jana said as she shook Ted's hand.

"Nice to meet you," Ted replied with a smile.

"Well, I better go. I'll meet you tomorrow, Mr. Black. Thank you." Jana gave another smile and walked hurriedly back up the stairs.

"Thank you," Sirius called after her.

"She seems like a nice girl," said Ted. "It was nice of her to offer some help."

"Yeah," replied Sirius, nodding his head. "Nobody does _that _anymore."

&

It was finally Saturday and Harry was finally able to go home, which made both him and Sirius happier than anything. Harry was dying to get out of the hospital. The smell was making him feel sick and the noise from all the other patients around him was driving him crazy. He could hear babies crying, children screaming, and older people yelling and complaining all around him, coming in through the walls of his room. It was a madhouse. He couldn't wait to go back to the quietness of his own home, even if he wouldn't be able to see it. At least, his eardrums wouldn't burst.

Sirius had worked everything out with Jana the day before. It turned out that she only worked part time (Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights) at the Ministry, as a secretary for the head of the Department of International Affairs. As such, she would be able to come by and teach Harry during the day. And Sirius thought that Harry would really like her. She was young and sweet, not some crabby old lady who yelled at people all the time. At least, she didn't seem to be. Sirius just hoped he had made the right decision and that she wasn't some Death Eater….

&

The first thing Harry realized when Sirius placed him in his wheelchair was that it was rather uncomfortable. The back of it where he rested his head felt cold and metallic and the armrests were unpadded and so small that Harry's elbows kept slipping off of them. He couldn't believe how people could spend their whole lives sitting in one of these. He supposed they got used to it, as he would have to.

Andromeda, Ted, and Dora all were there to see Harry leave and promised to come by and see him tomorrow.

"It'll be okay, Harry." Andromeda sounded positive in her reassurance. "We all love you and we'll find a way to make this all better."

"Thanks," Harry said, trying his best to smile. "I love you guys, too."

Andromeda and Dora both kissed him goodbye while Ted gave him a hug. Harry had always liked Ted's hugs. They were firm and strong.

"Bye, Harry!" Dora said one final time as Sirius and Harry were heading down the hallway. Her voice was cheery now. Harry could imagine her hair being pink. It was her favorite color and the one her hair always turned when she was her happiest.

"Bye, Dora!" Harry replied, turning his head back to where her voice was. Even though he couldn't actually see her, he felt much better facing her than having his back to her. "I love you!"

No matter how uncomfortable the wheelchair was, Harry loved the sensation he felt when it was actually moving. It was as though he were gliding along on a broomstick, only on the ground instead of in the air, and all in all, he liked not having to watch out for things and not having to avoid tripping over people, as Sirius was the one pushing the wheelchair in the direction it needed to go.

"How are we getting home?" Harry asked his godfather curiously.

"We'll be Flooing," Sirius replied. "But, we'll have to go at the same time and that could be a bit difficult with a wheelchair. Hopefully, the fireplace will be big enough."

"Yeah," agreed Harry, nodding his head. He wondered how the wheelchair would fit, especially with all the coal that they put in fireplaces. It would probably be very bumpy.

Harry felt the wheelchair turn smoothly and heard a door open in front of him.

"Here it is," said Sirius. "There's a big fireplace in here we can go through."

There were footsteps in every direction and people were talking all around them. They must have been in an office of some sort, which made sense. There were no fireplaces in patients' rooms. Harry knew that from the last time he came here.

"Hello." Harry heard Sirius talking to someone. "We would like to use your Floo network, please, if that's alright."

"Why, yes." It was a woman's voice. "Go ahead."

"Thank you," Sirius said. He wheeled Harry a little farther into the room and finally stopped.

"Okay, Harry," his godfather said. "This might a little bumpy, but it'll have to do until we get home."

"That's okay," Harry said. He felt his godfather wheel him over the threshold of the fireplace, the smell of soot filling his nostrils. It was a bit bumpy and the wheelchair felt a bit tilted from the coals underneath it.

"One nineteen Primrose Place." Sirius whispered their address as not to let anyone else in the room hear it. Harry could hear him throwing the Floo powder into the fireplace and soon felt the warm sensation of the magical fire surrounding him, followed by a strange spinning.

"We're here!" Sirius said about five seconds later.

He had to tilt the wheelchair backward to get it out of the fireplace, but Harry didn't mind. He was too busy taking in the familiar smell of his home. He had been there in months. He was so happy to be back! But, at the same time, he felt terribly sad….

"It's okay, Harry." Sirius stroked the back of Harry's head, obviously noticing the expression on Harry's face. "Everything'll be okay, I promise."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. All he wanted was to be able to see and walk again like a normal boy.

"You need a bath." Sirius' voice brought Harry from his thoughts.

"Really?" Harry asked, looking up at where he thought Sirius might be.

"Yes." Sirius chuckled. "You haven't had one in a week. You're the dirtiest child I've ever seen. Come on. Let's go get you clean."

"Okay," Harry said as his godfather picked him up out of his wheelchair and carried him up the stairs. He hadn't been carried since he was four, when Sirius had told him he was a 'big boy' and needed to walk on his own. Now, he felt like a baby again, having to be helped with everything.

Including taking a bath. Harry was very embarrassed with having Sirius bathe him. He absolutely hated being naked in front of other people. It was always the subject of his nightmares.

But, the bathe itself was lovely. The warm water tickled Harry's stomach as Sirius dipped him in the tub, and he giggled as Sirius scrubbed under his chin and arms, but his legs remained limp. He couldn't even feel it when Sirius washed his toes, which was odd, since that had always been the place where Harry was the most ticklish in the past. But, being clean was so refreshing after being in the hospital for almost two weeks. Harry couldn't imagine how dirty he was.

"Is my hair as greasy as Snape's?" Harry asked as Sirius scrubbed his scalp.

Sirius gave a loud laugh. "No, Harry. You'd have to have not washed your hair for sixteen _months_ to get hair as bad as Snape's."

"That's a relief." Harry said, taking a deep breath and relaxing his arms. He felt like falling asleep in the water.

"Keep your eyes closed," Sirius warned. "I have to rinse you now."

"Okay." Harry shut his eyes tightly and felt warm water and soap run down off his head.

"All clean," Sirius finally said. "You look one hundred percent better."

He picked Harry up out of the tub slowly and placed him on the rug, wrapping a towel around him. In a matter of a minute, Harry was dressed in his favorite green plaid pajamas. Although he couldn't actually see the color, he felt the texture of the fabric and knew exactly which pajamas they were.

"Are you for bed?" Sirius asked, picking his godson up in his arms. "It's already ten o'clock."

"Okay," Harry replied, leaning his head on Sirius' shoulder. The sweet scent of cologne still lingered on his skin, and his neck and face were clean-shaven and smooth. "I'm sort of tired."

'Sort of' was a definite understatement. He was about to fall over dead. The medicine that he had been taking was still in his system and made him very sleepy.

After Harry brushed his teeth (something that he was proud to say that he could on his own once he had been given his tooth brush and toothpaste), Sirius settled him in his own bed. For a split moment, Harry had the fear that Sirius was going to leave him, but he relaxed when he felt Sirius lie down beside him.

"I wouldn't dare leave you alone with you in a condition like this," his godfather said, as though he had read his mind. "It would be child abuse."

Harry smiled. "Thanks."

"Your welcome, Harry." Sirius wrapped his arms around his godson and gave him a kiss on his forehead. Now _that _was something he hadn't done in years, ever since Harry had told him that he was too old for kisses.

But, this time was different. Harry had wanted a kiss. He needed to know that Sirius loved him and wasn't going to leave him. Besides, it was the closest thing to seeing him that Harry was going to get for a long time, maybe even his whole life.

"I love you, Sirius."

"I love you, too, Harry James." Sirius gave him another kiss, this time on the cheek. "I'll always love you no matter what happens. You know that, right?" He brushed Harry's wet hair out of his eyes.

"Yeah," said Harry, taking hold of his godfather's hand, not wanting to ever let go. "I know that."

&

Earlier that day, at Hogwarts, the seven Gryffindor first years had spent the day trying to write a letter to Harry's godfather since they had already gotten permission from Professor McGonagall (after begging and pleading for a day) to go to Hogsmeade with the third years.

It being a sunny Saturday afternoon, and probably one of the last there would be for a long time according to the forecast, they sat on the grass out by the lake.

"I think Dean should write the letter," said Neville, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. "He has the best handwriting."

"But, Hermione's better with words and sentences and stuff," said Seamus.

"Then, _Dean _will _write _the letter and _I'll _tell him what to say." Hermione "The Mediator", as they all called her, said bossily.

"So, here is goes," said Dean. He propped a book up on his knees and spread a piece of parchment out over it. "What do you want me to say, Mediator?"

Hermione cleared her throat loudly. Parvati, Lavender, and Dean rolled their eyes. "Write, 'Dear Mr.— what's his godfather's name again?"

Hermione felt rather embarrassed at having to ask this. Rarely did she not remember anything.

"Black," replied Neville. "Sirius Black." Everyone looked at Neville surprised. He _never _remembered people's names. "What?" he asked at the looks on their faces. "My gran knows him."

"Anyway," Hermione continued, glad to be back in control. She paced around in circles. "Write, 'Dear Mr. Black. Comma. We are Harry's fellow first year Gryffindors. Period."

"That's lame," said Dean, looking up at Hermione as if she were an idiot. "I'm not writing that. It sounds like something a cooperate executive would say."

"A what?" asked Seamus.

"Nobody," replied Hermione. Turning back to Dean, she said angrily, "It's better than anything _you _would write."

"No it's not. Here." Dean began writing down on the paper with his quill. "How's that for a first sentence?" After a moment of writing, he held up the parchment for Hermione to read.

" 'Dear Mr. Black, We are some of Harry's Gryffindor friends, and we are very sorry for what has happened to him.' I guess that's good enough." She said.

"It's sounds much more like something a first year would write," said Lavender.

Then, suddenly, the writing of the rest of the letter was interrupted as the unmistakable sound of shouting filled the students' ears.

"What was that?" asked Ron, getting up off the ground and looking around him. "I think it's Wood and Flint. Look!"

"Ron? Where are you going?" Hermione yelled after him as he began running. Soon after, the others followed in his direction, taking the parchment with them.

Sure enough, on the other side of the lake, Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, were engaging in an argument, which was soon to erupt into a fistfight.

"Now that your Seeker's gone, I don't think we'll be expecting any wins from the Gryffindor team anytime soon." Flint was saying. He was an ugly, muscular brunet with horribly crooked teeth.

"Like your Seeker's any good at all, Flint," Wood spat. "He can barely ride a broom stick."

"Well, at least he's in better condition than Potter is." Flint retorted. "What's wrong with him again, Wood? Blind and deaf, was it?"

Wood leapt forward like a cheetah pouncing on its prey and knocked Flint to the ground. Parvati let out a shriek as the Gryffindor captain punched the Slytherin straight in the nose. Flint retaliated by pounding Wood in the back of his skull as hard as he could.

"STOP!" Percy Weasley, who had been standing beside Wood all along, finally got up his courage to use his "Prefect Powers", as Fred and George called them. He tried to grab Wood and pull him off of Flint before any serious damage was done, but the two boys kept beating each other like wrestling bears.

"STOP!" he shouted again. "BEFORE THE TEACHERS SEE YOU! WE DON'T NEED ANY OTHER STUDENTS EXPELLED!!"

Finally, Percy had some help from several other boys in his year to pull the Quidditch players apart. Wood had a bruise around his eye and Flint's nose was bleeding. The two stared at each other ferociously as they were pulled into opposite directions.

"Woah," Seamus remarked in awe, his eyes the size of saucers. "We've got to catch their next show,"

**End Note: **How was it? I liked Seamus's comment at the end. It was my favorite part. And don't worry; Flint vs. Wood is not over yet. There will be more to come in future chapters, but not for a few. Anyway, next chapter: Harry spends some time with Jana (who is NOT a Death Eater); Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco attempt to talk to Sirius, and Sirius gets the kids' letter. And there will be some Harry and Sirius time as well. There will be lots of that in this story. Please review.

Merci Beaucoup,

Amélie


	13. The Lesson, The Letter, and The Liabilit

Author's Note: Thanks for all of your lovely reviews

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all of your lovely reviews! I hope you like Chapter Thirteen.

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Thirteen: The Lesson, The Letter, and The Liability

Monday morning was a bit of a hassle for Sirius. Getting Harry dressed and ready at five thirty in the morning was very hard to do. The boy was grumpy and tired and very fussy about having Sirius leave him.

"I'll be back tonight at seven, Harry," Sirius reassured him, wrapping his arms around him to let him know he was there. Harry seemed to be much more calm when he could actually feel the people around him.

"I know," Harry sobbed. "But, I don't want to you to leave. I'm scared!"

He buried his face in his godfather's shoulder, soaking it with tears. Sirius couldn't help but feel like crying as well. Watching his poor child suffer like this tore his heart in half. He couldn't imagine how Harry must have felt and how scared he must have been. They just sat, wrapped in each other's arms for a while, not knowing what to say.

Suddenly, the sound of a roaring flame brought both of them back to reality. Sirius looked up from his position on the couch and saw Jana Wilder standing in the fireplace, right on schedule. She was dressed in a long purple robe with matching earrings and her hair curled and pulled back into a ponytail. She had a handbag with what looked like books inside slung over her shoulder.

"Good morning, Mr. Black." She smiled brightly as she walked out of the fireplace and further into the living room.

"Good morning, Jana," Sirius responded, smiling and nudging Harry to make him sit up straight.

"And this must be Harry." Jana gave another smile and walked over to the couch where Sirius and Harry were sitting. She squatted down in front of Harry and attempted to take his hand, when the boy whimpered and pulled back sharply.

"Harry, no!" Sirius heard the sternness of his own voice and for a moment, felt a bit angry with himself for using such a tone with Harry. But, then again, Harry was being rude and disrespectful toward someone who was here to help him. He couldn't get away with it. His godfather took hold of his shoulders so that he would stay still. "Be nice. She's going to help you."

"It's alright." Jana smiled politely. "I can understand. He doesn't see me and on top of that, I'm a complete stranger, so it's hard for him to trust me."

Harry gave another whimper and tried to hide his face once more in his godfather's shoulders, but Sirius pushed him off gently.

"I have to leave, Harry," he said. "Jana is going to spend the day with you. She's going to teach you how to read Braille."

"Braille?" Harry asked, looking in Sirius' direction, only slightly off. "What's Braille?"

"It's a system of raised dots on paper that helps blind people with reading." Jana was the one to respond, sitting down on the couch next to Harry and taking his hand. This time he didn't pull back, presumably because he knew that Sirius would scold him if he did so. "It's kind of like their alphabet."

"Is it hard?" Harry asked. He had turned his attention to Jana now and was trying to make out where she was. His face was now dry and he seemed much more comfortable with her around.

Then, Sirius realized that he really did have to leave. It was almost six-thirty in the morning, about the time when he had to be at work, and he certainly didn't want Fudge to be angry with him for being late.

"I have to go, Harry." Sirius leaned over hugged his godson tightly, giving him one last kiss on the cheek before pulling away, but Harry was still in no condition to let Sirius leave.

"No, Sirius. Please come back!" All the comfort that Harry seemed to have had with Jana vanished and was crying again and holding on to his godfather's hand. "Please, don't leave. Please, no!"

It was both quite startling and unbelievable for Sirius to see Harry act like this. Just two-and-a-half months before, leaving Sirius to go to Hogwarts had been no big deal for Harry at all. He had been exuberant and excited, full of confidence and happiness, not a worry in the world. He had known whole-heartedly that he would come home to Sirius at the end of term. Now, however, all was different. Harry was crying and trying to cling to his godfather with all his might, thinking the absolute worst and scared to death of everything around him. This was not the Harry Sirius had raised.

"Harry, I'll be back soon! I promise," Sirius said as he gave Harry another hug and kiss. "I have to go to work. If I don't, our lives'll be a lot worse than they are now."

"But, I don't want you to go." Harry's sightless eyes were the saddest Sirius had ever seen them and he was still trying desperately to keep Sirius on the couch. "You need to stay with me. What if you don't come back?"

"Why would I not come back?" Of course, there indeed _was _a possibility that Sirius might not come back, however rare it was. There was a possibility for everything, especially when considering Sirius' job as an Auror. But, Sirius couldn't admit _that _to Harry. It would be as bad as killing him. "I'll come back, Harry. I promise."

By now, he had lost count as to how many kisses he had given Harry, but the boy didn't seem to mind. He gave him one more and squeezed his hand gently, letting him know everything would be okay in the end.

"Bye, Harry," Sirius said. Harry was now silent, apparently now realizing that his begging wasn't going to help anything. Sirius turned around to look at Jana and stated with a small smile on his face, "Thank you for doing this, Jana."

Jana smiled again and nodded her head. "You're welcome, sir. It's no problem at all." Her brown eyes glittered in the lamplight.

"I'll be back at seven tonight," Sirius said before turning toward the fireplace.

"Sure," replied Jana. "It's okay, Harry." She pulled the boy into a hug as he sniffled and let out another small cry.

&

Harry was terrified at being alone with someone whom he didn't know, let alone couldn't see. He had no idea how long he cried, but he didn't care. He didn't want to be left alone with _anyone _except Sirius.

"Harry, Harry," the woman kept pleading with him, trying to hold him still, which he didn't like. He did not want to be touched by anyone. "It's okay," she kept repeating. "I'm going to help you."

That just made him feel worse. Harry didn't want to learn anything he couldn't see. It wouldn't help anything, he knew. He sobbed quietly for a few moments, and finally calmed down when he realized that the woman wasn't going to give in to him.

"First of all, how about I introduce myself?" She asked. True, they had not been properly introduced, but how did that matter? Harry didn't care to know who she was. "My name is Jana Wilder." Harry felt her take his hand in hers and shake it. "I have a blind brother and my parents taught me to read Braille in order to help him. It's easy to learn," she said the last part in answer to his earlier question, which he had forgotten about asking the moment Sirius had left the house. "And—"

"What do you look like?" Harry interrupted her abruptly, but he didn't consider it rude. He figured that if he were going to be taken care of by a stranger he needed to at least be able to visualize them properly.

"Excuse me?" Jana asked this not as though she thought it were a rude question, but as though she didn't catch on immediately. Then, before Harry could respond, she answered,

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, sweetie. Well, I've got curly blonde hair and brown eyes."

Harry reached up and felt for her hair, just to feel the texture. Before he had become blind, he had seen other blind people do this as a way to "see" the person they were meeting. It gave them a better sense of who they were talking to.

Jana did indeed have curly hair. Harry could feel the ringlets and knew that it was tied in a ponytail. And the texture was very thin, as he had always known most blond hair to be.

"Okay," Harry replied, putting his hand back down to his side. "You're not lying. I just had to make sure."

Jana chuckled. "That's good. I'm glad I'm not lying. Now about Braille…"

Her sentence trailed off and Harry felt the weight of the couch shift, meaning that Jana had moved in some way. It seemed like she was leaning over to get something; and sure enough, he heard the sound of her shuffling around in something, maybe a purse or a satchel or some other kind or bag.

Soon, Harry could feel his hands touching the edges of something hard: a book; and though he could not feel the book resting in his lap, he knew it was there. He searched around for the book's opening. He could hear the sound of pages crinkling open, and the new book scent immediately filled his nostrils.

"This book is written entirely in Braille," Jana explained, obviously noticing that Harry had taken an interest in it.

Harry ran his hand over the first page of the book and felt a series of bumps on the surface of the page.

"This page is the entire alphabet written in Braille," Jana said. Her voice was very gentle. She took hold of his right hand and placed it near the top of the page, finally resting it on top of a single dot. "This is the letter A in Braille. But," she stopped talking for about a second; "it's also the number one."

"How can it be both?" Harry asked her.

"Well, with Braille, the first ten letters of the alphabet and the numbers zero through nine are the same," Jana explained

Gently, she ran Harry's index finger over a little further right, resting it on two dots that were vertical. "This is the letter B and number two."

At first, the letters and numbers were quite easy to understand, although not all put together. However, after J and zero, the letters got tougher, and Harry became frustrated. He could feel the tears coming again and didn't know how to stop them.

"It's okay, Harry." Jana put one arm around him and gave him a hug. "Now, we're just going through all the alphabet so you can get a good idea of everything. Then, we'll practice each one individually before putting everything into words and numbers."

But, that wasn't enough comfort for Harry. To comfort him enough would be to have Jana take off the black screen that was in front of his eyes and bring back the feeling in his legs. He wanted nothing more than be a perfect boy again.

&

"Are you okay, Sirius?" Dora asked him as they were walking down the halls of the Ministry to Room 101, which was used specifically for Auror training. If only Sirius had thought of using that room before. Then, he and the Tonks' wouldn't have had to pay any money to Fudge for breaking his statue, because Dora wouldn't have broken it.

But that was not what Sirius was thinking about as they were walking toward that room. He was thinking about Harry and how miserable he was. Even if he were getting help, he would still have to live the struggle of being a crippled blind. It would never go away. He couldn't believe how pitiful Harry looked as Sirius left him. The image of Harry's sad face was imprinted on his godfather's mind….

"I'm fine," Sirius replied dully. But, obviously, Dora would not take that as the truth, so he decided to tell her what was bothering him. "I'm just really upset about Harry."

Dora looked at him sadly, but her physical appearance didn't change. Her hair was straight and blonde and shorter than most girls' hair, but it was long enough to be put into two pigtails, which she had done.

"I can imagine how upset you are," She said, nodding her head. "I mean, if I had to take care of a kid with a problem like that, I'd be really frustrated, too. Not that I wouldn't want to take of Harry. He's the sweetest thing." She gave one of her signature cheery smiles.

"Thanks," Sirius replied. Dora's smile made him do the same. She always knew how to make people feel happy, even when they were at their worst.

They reached the room and Sirius unlocked the door. The room was probably one of the largest at the Ministry. Approximately, seven of the Hogwarts House Tables could fit into it. But, of course it had to be so large. With Auror trainees, mentors did not know what to expect them to do.

As far as what was in the room, there was nothing. It was completely empty, and of course, for good reason. There was a single window high above the ground near the ceiling to let light in just in case all means of light that the occupants of the room might have were to be extinguished.

"Looks clear to me," Dora said as she stepped inside the room. Ever since the statue incident, she always looked before she leapt, even in rooms like this where there was never anything inside. She did not want to accidentally fire a curse at something that she wasn't supposed to. But, Sirius knew it was just a matter of time before she did it again. With Nymphadora Tonks, clumsiness just never went away.

But, ironically, and at the same time, quite predictably, just as Dora had finished speaking, an object literally came flying into the room. The sound of shattered glass filled the air. A gigantic brown owl swooped through the window and landed right in front of Sirius, a letter in its beak.

Dora was staring at the bird in shock, seemingly trying to catch her breath. _Why would anyone send me a letter this way?_ Sirius wondered. It really didn't make any sense. There was an Owl Post three floors down where everyone was _supposed _to receive his or her mail, so it was completely unnecessary and strange for a letters to be sent to wherever the receiver was.

But, nevertheless, Sirius took the letter from the owl's beak ever so slowly (he always had the fear of owls biting him), and watched the magnificent thing fly away via the broken window. Dora had caught her breath and was now staring at the letter strangely and voiced what Sirius had been wondering this whole time.

"Who could that be from?" She had a suspicious look in her eyes.

"No idea," Sirius responded. Then, turning the letter over, he saw that in the corner where one usually put the sender was what said 'Gryffindor First Years'. Seeing this, Sirius said, "I think it's from Harry's friends."

Dora walked over beside him and watched as Sirius opened the envelope. Inside, was a neatly handwritten letter with seven signatures at the bottom, some neater than others.

It read:

Dear Mr. Black,

We are some of Harry's Gryffindor friends, and we are very sorry for what has happened to him. As such, we were hoping, with your approval, of course, if we (the five of us Gryffindors) could plan a get together with Harry. We really miss him, as he was a wonderful friend to us, and we would feel very happy if we could see him sometime. If you could please respond to our request, whether with a yes or a no, we would appreciate it very much.

Sincerely,

Dean Thomas

Seamus Finnegan

Neville Longbottom

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Lavender Brown

Parvati Patil,

The Gryffindor First Years

Sirius couldn't help but smile. It was a very sweet letter and _extremely _well crafted to say the least. But, those were the last thoughts he had on the subject before he noticed three blond figures standing in the doorway of Room 101.

&

It was probably the most embarrassing day of Draco's life. His parents had dragged him all the way to the Ministry to make him say sorry for hurting Potter. Of course, their _real _intention in having him do that was to prevent Sirius Black from suing them. They figured Draco's apology would do the trick, which Draco highly doubted; and anyway, he didn't see exactly why his parents were worried about being sued in the first place. They had a whole pile of money, so losing a bit wouldn't do them any harm. In fact, Draco came to think of it, it might do them some good.

In the past few weeks of being an "outcast", as he had begun thinking of himself being, Draco had come to reflect on his family's values and realized how messed up they really were, and he hated all of it. He was almost glad to be considered an outcast. It was nowhere near as bad as being a part of the Malfoy family. At least with being disinherited and scorned, he would not be considered as snobby as they were.

To make his family worse was the big scene that his parents had to make when they went anywhere. His mother always had to scowl at everyone who was 'beneath' her, which, incidentally, was everyone in the world outside her family, and his father always had a habit of whispering about everyone he saw on the street, and expecting everyone to know him and treat him as though he were the king of the world.

But, the most embarrassing thing of all was the fact that all eyes were now on Draco. It seemed as though everywhere he went, people were staring at him with a look of hatred. Even as he walked down the hallways of the Ministry to get to Room 101, he seemed to be scorned by everyone.

And now, standing in the presence of Sirius Black (and not to mention Draco's blonde, pigtailed cousin, looking on with nervousness) did not make his feeling of nervousness and guilt go away. The man was more handsome than any other Draco had ever seen, but the look in his gray eyes made him also the most foreboding.

Draco couldn't do anything but cower and tremble in front of him. He could only imagine how stupid he looked.

Finally, Sirius broke the silence.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" For a second, Draco got the impression that "the Black family traitor" was talking to _him_ and almost responded, but stopped when he heard the sound of his father's voice.

"Hello, Sirius. Draco has something he needs to say."

Now that was a bit of a strange greeting for Lucius Malfoy. Usually, he greeted people with a long, drawn out monologue about how foolish, unworthy, or poor they were. But, perhaps since he had been doing that all day, he was sick of it and just wanted to get to the point. Draco wasn't sure, and quite frankly, didn't really care at the moment. He was feeling too guilty and upset to care about much of anything, except how deadly Sirius' stare at all of them was.

"Something to say to me?" Sirius crossed his arms over his dark green Auror robes and, quite predictably, switched his stare over to Draco, who could feel his eyes widening and his stomach churning in fear. It felt odd, really, for this was the first time in his life when he had actually felt scared of an adult other than his father. "And what could that be?"

Draco couldn't respond at all, which made his father angry and caused the Malfoy patriarch to nudge his son violently in the shoulder.

"Draco!" Lucius demanded sternly. "Say it! Say it _now_!"

Draco took a deep breath, feeling his heart racing now. The words that came out of his mouth were small and squeaky like a mouse's. That had never happened before.

"I'm sorry." Then, thinking that not specific enough, he added as best he could, "for hurting Harry." He had never said Potter's first name before, but doing so didn't have an effect on him, like it would have if he and Potter were back at school and having to share a cauldron in Snape's class. In fact, nothing had the same effect on Draco that it used to.

And, unfortunately for Lucius and Narcissa, Sirius Black was not a fool and knew exactly what lay hidden underneath Draco's apology, at least for his parents.

"I know what you're doing, Lucius." Draco saw Sirius' eyes dart back toward his father. He was glad that the focus was no longer on him. "But, lucky for you, I won't pressed charges."

"What are you talking about?" Narcissa spoke her first sentence in what had to be close to an hour.

_What a faker,_ Draco found himself thinking. Anyone with half a brain could see that his mother knew exactly what Sirius was talking about.

"The only reason why you brought Draco over here to say sorry was to stop me from suing you for what happened to Harry. Fortunately for you, I have no desire to sue because Draco is just a child. So you can go on living your snobby, selfish lives." Sirius gave a small, tight smile, and Draco couldn't help but give one himself. He was happy to see his parents humiliated for once in their lives. "Good…bye."

But, before they could try to explain themselves, Sirius had slammed the door hard in their faces, causing the hallway to echo loudly.

The Malfoys stood outside the door for a few moments, not uttering a word. Until, finally, Lucius looked satisfied enough to leave and said, "Well, that's settled."

But, as the family walked down the hallway and back out to the entrance of the Ministry, Draco had the feeling that his father was wrong. It wasn't settled. Draco still felt all the guilt and shame for what he had done, and he was the one being sued for everything. He had to pay for everything that had gone wrong.

**End Note: **I really hope you guys liked this chapter. It took me forever to write. I hope it wasn't boring. But, I'm going to have to take a break from this story for a while because I need to work on my other one, on which I'm having some terrible writer's block that I hope I can fix. Anyway, thank you so much for all of your reviews. I really appreciate them. And don't worry. There is going to be a huge scene with Sirius and Harry together in the next chapter.

Beacoup d'amour à tous,

Amélie


	14. Pranks and Reality

**Author's Note:** I wrote three chapters of my other story and now that it's got some good substance to it, I'm gonna post a chapter for this one. I think I'll try to go back and forth on each story. I hope you guys like Chapter Fourteen! Please Review!!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Fourteen: Pranks and Reality

That night, Sirius finally decided to let Harry's friends have a get together for him. So, after work one day, he came home to write a return letter to the five Gryffindor children. He had asked Jana to stay for a while longer to look after Harry while he did so, as he decided it was best for the get together to be a surprise and didn't want him to know what he was doing.

Once he was finished and had delivered the letter, Jana told him of all she and Harry had done that day.

"He's very frustrated with everything," Jana said, sighing lightly. "I'm trying to encourage him, but he's just so upset."

"I'll speak with him," Sirius assured her. "Thank you for your time." He reached into his pocket to withdraw money to pay her, but she refused.

"It's all right." She smiled. "I don't need any money. I get paid enough at my real job, which I need to be heading off to. I'm just doing it to help Harry because I know how much he's suffering. But, thank you anyway."

Sirius felt a bit awkward at not giving Jana any money, but he understood that she was merely helping them out of the goodness of her heart, which Sirius liked because it showed her true personality: selfless and caring.

"Well, if you insist," said Sirius. He held out his hand and she shook it. It wasn't a very firm shake, but it was one full of sincerity. "Thank you so much," Sirius said again. "We really appreciate it."

Jana's smile was bright now. "It's nothing." She said, chuckling, which made her brown eyes twinkle. "I love helping children. Well…I better be going." She gave another smile and walked into the fireplace. Talking a handful of Floo powder and shouting, "Ministry of Magic," she vanished.

After watching her leave, Sirius then turned to Harry who was holding his book of Braille in his lap, flipping through the pages. He sat down on the couch beside the boy and put his arm around him.

"How are you feeling today?" Sirius asked. Harry had a very frustrated look on his face, just as Jana had said he had had on his face all day.

"Angry." Harry replied, resting his head on Sirius' shoulder. Sirius noticed that the boy now had tears in his eyes. "I can't do this. It's too hard. I just wish I was a normal boy again."

The tears began to flow and Sirius wrapped both arms around Harry. "I know, Harry," he said. "I know."

"But it's NOT FAIR!" Harry brought his voice to a shout and suddenly began screaming and pulling his hair like a five year old.

"STOP IT!" Sirius was overwhelmed. He tried holding onto the boy tighter, but Harry threw himself onto the floor with all his might and began beating his fists, all the while screaming his heart out.

"Harry, STOP IT!" Sirius leapt down on the floor beside Harry and tried to hold him still, but the boy was going crazy, digging his own nails into the sides of his cheeks, making them go so deep that blood was showing.

"STOP IT!" Sirius shouted again. Finally, he gained control of Harry by grabbing his wrists, preventing him from scratching himself anymore.

Sirius managed to cradle the screaming boy in his arms, but the child kept screaming as though he were a toddler.

"Harry, you have got to calm down!" Sirius shouted. He had never in his life seen Harry act this way. It was as if he were a whole new child.

Harry tried to push Sirius away, still screaming his lungs out. Sirius couldn't think of what else to do to get Harry to stop. Only one idea came to mind. Without warning, he smacked Harry across the face with his hand.

But, instantly, he knew that what he had done was a mistake. He pulled back in horror at the realization of what had actually taken place. The guilt seeped in and his entire body began to sweat and tremble. He couldn't believe it. He had hit Harry, who needed him now more than ever and whom he loved and had promised never to harm in such a way. He couldn't believe it.

Harry seemed to be just as shocked at the action as Sirius was. He had stopped screaming instantly, but tears were still running down his face. More guilt thrust itself at Sirius as he noticed the red mark on the side of Harry's face combined with the scratch marks, blood, and tearstains. It was the most horrible sight he had ever seen.

"Harry…." Now it was Sirius' turn to cry as he gently took Harry's face in his hands, rubbing the blood off his face and pulling him closer, half expecting the boy to pull away or start screaming again, but he stayed calm. "I'm so sorry…."

The tears were coming down from both of them like waterfalls.

"Why did you do that?" Harry asked, his face buried in Sirius' chest.

"I wasn't thinking…." And in all seriousness, he wasn't. It was an impulse and the first solution that had come into his mind. He had not been thinking of the consequences. "I'm sorry."

They stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a while, until Sirius felt it appropriate to begin a conversation. He pulled Harry away from him so that the two of them were face-to-face. It didn't matter that Harry couldn't see. Doing this would make him understand that the conversation was serious and that he had to listen.

"You are not ever to do that to yourself again. Do you understand?" He hoped his voice was just stern enough to get the point across, but not too much to the point where Harry felt fearful of him.

Harry's eyes were dry now, but his cheeks were still red and puffy. Sirius' handprint had begun to fade, but the scratches were very deep and still very visible.

"But, I don't want to live like this," the boy replied, sniffling. Sirius could see the tears forming again.

"But, you have to live like this." Sirius didn't care what his voice sounded like now. He was too scared and worried about what Harry could do to himself. He needed to do whatever possible to get his point across. "You don't have a choice. For now, you have to learn this way of life. Everything won't go back to normal overnight." He sighed and pulled Harry back into his embrace. "I know you're frustrated, but hurting yourself won't make anything better. It'll just make it worse."

He kissed the top of Harry's head and stroked his messy black hair. "Besides, if you keep hurting yourself like this, they could take you away…." He choked on the last few words. His throat grew tight and the tears were unstoppable.

"Who would take me away?" Harry asked, his voice quiet and almost muffled by Sirius' shoulder.

"The authorities…the people at the hospital," Sirius explained, the tears still coming. He didn't want to think of that actually happening. It was the worst thing that could happen, but he knew it would if Harry couldn't control himself. "Hurting yourself intentionally is considered a crime and the people at the hospital will make you stay there until you stop doing it. It's a law…you don't want to be taken away, do you?"

"No…." Harry was clearly frightened by the thought of being taken away from his godfather. He clutched on tighter to the back of Sirius' robes and began to cry softly.

"Then, you can't beat yourself up, because that's exactly what they'll do." Sirius gave another sigh and a haunting image of Harry locked in the psychiatric wards of St. Mungo's, blind and confined to a wheelchair without a clue about what was going on around him, and Sirius not being able to see him. He tried his hardest to push it from his mind, but he knew it was Harry's fate if he didn't change.

"I don't want them to do that. I want to stay with you…" Harry's crying became louder and he began to sob uncontrollably. "I love you."

"I love too, Harry," Sirius whispered, stroking his hair again to calm him down. "That's why I don't want anything to happen to you." He didn't want to see Harry hurting himself. He was already hurt enough as it was. He needed to be happy and learn to live his new life. He needed to face reality instead of trying to escape it when he couldn't.

&

"Has anyone seen my goose feather pillow?" asked Seamus as he walked into the boys' dormitory of Gryffindor Tower. It was the one thing he was looking forward to after a long day of school. It always made him fall asleep after a stressful day, and after writing two class essays and taking a test, he felt very stressed.

"No," replied Dean dully, not even looking up from the book he was reading for Transfiguration. "Try looking on your bed. That's where all my pillows are."

"You have a goose feather pillow?" asked Ron kicking off his shoes and plopping onto his bed as if he were diving into a swimming pool. "Don't tell Lavender. She'll report you for cruelty to animals."

"But I didn't kill it," said Seamus, walking over to his bed and pulling the covers so he could look to see if his pillow was there. "Me mam bought it for me."

"So?" asked Ron, watching Seamus destroy his bed. "She'll still report you just for the possession of something animal-made."

The sound of a door handle opening made all three boys turn to look as Neville walked in through the door with a sort of nervous look on his face.

"Hey, Seamus. Did you say you lost your pillow?" The round-faced boy asked timidly.

"Because I think Wood's using it for something. It's yellow, right?"

"Yeah." Seamus ran out of the room and down to the common room where he found Wood sitting in one of the chairs with a yellow pillow and a big jar of honey. What could he possibly be using that for?

Percy Weasley was right behind the chair, looking over Wood's shoulder with one of his I-Don't-Think-You-Should-Do-This-Because-You'll-Get-In-Trouble looks.

"Wood, what are you doing with my pillow?" asked Seamus, running over to him and preparing to snatch the pillow from Wood's hands. He spoke so loudly that everyone else in the common room turned to look at him and Wood.

"Well, since I knew one of you little first years had a goose feather pillow, I thought it would be nice to take the feathers out and drop them on Flint sometime, as payback, of course." Wood gestured over to the honey jar beside him. "Of course, I would want to make them stick, so I thought I'd cover him in honey first."

All the while, Percy was muttering under his breath and giving Seamus hand signals that said, "I told him not too, but he did it anyway." All the other students continued to watch the commotion.

Ignoring Percy and the other students, Seamus rounded on Wood. "You guys are never going to get even with each other because you're always going to be trying to get back at each other, so why don't you just go about your own business."

It was the truth, after all. Everybody knew it. Slytherins and Gryffindors, especially the Quidditch players, had been fighting each other for centuries. No one could ever win. It was preposterous. "You shouldn't just take other people's stuff without their permission. How did you know I had a goose feather pillow, anyway?"

That was the most important part of the whole situation. Wood should not have taken Seamus' pillow without his permission. Seamus would have never have allowed Wood to do something so stupid with us a valuable pillowcase. Okay, so it wasn't all that valuable in terms of money, but anything your mother gives you is worth a lot to you and you don't just let anybody take it and use it for their stupid purposes.

"Simple," said Wood in answer to Seamus' last question. " I went around asking if anyone knew where I could find feathers because I had thought up the idea of dumping feathers on Flint's head a long time ago, so when I heard you had a goose feather pillow, I had to use it." He said it as though it were the most obviously thing in the whole world.

"And you did it without my permission." Seamus was angry. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. It was his pillow, and no one else was allowed to have it.

In a fit of rage, Seamus grabbed the pillow from Wood and whacked him clean in the head with it. Percy yelped from behind the chair, but no one seemed to care. Several of the other students gasped and a few got up from where they were sitting in case something else happened.

Now, Seamus was worried that Wood might clobber him, so he was glad that the other students were at least considering trying to help him. The fifth year boy was so big and muscular that he could probably tear down a whole house. Percy was obviously worried about the same thing because he held onto Wood's shoulders to keep him from flying at Seamus. Several other boys in the room followed suit.

But, whatever was going to happen between Seamus and Wood was suddenly interrupted by two identical voices that came echoing down the stairs. It was the Weasley twins, two redheaded third year boys who were known all over the school for causing immense amounts of trouble.

They cleared their throats loudly, making all the students, including Seamus and Wood turn around and look at them.

"Stealing from people is never going to produce a good prank," said one of them (Seamus couldn't tell which one.).

"If you want to pull a real prank on someone," said the other,

"You should talk to us," the first one finished.

Wood looked as though they were angels sent from Heaven. "That's a great idea!" He said. "Why didn't I think of that before?" Then, turning to Seamus, he said, "sorry, Finnegan. I don't need your pillow. I can use whatever ideas they give me."

He ruffled Seamus' hair and walked over to talk to the twins.

Seamus was relieved. No beatings for him and he could keep his pillow.

Percy, on the other hand, didn't seem so happy with the idea of Wood taking ideas from the twins. He fainted as soon as all three of them had walked out of the room.

**End Note:** I hope you guys liked this chapter. I liked this chapter pretty well. I wanted to get in posted before school started back (tomorrow, ugh). As you can probably tell, there's going to be a big surprise in store for Flint somewhere down the road. And no, Percy and Wood are just friends. Nothing else is going on between them. I thought I would clear that up so that you guys don't make something different out of why they're always together. Anyway, about the first half of the chapter, I meant for it to be very deep. It actually had something to do with what I was going through a few years ago. I was very depressed and felt like hurting myself, but I knew I couldn't because I knew that I had to handle everything. As a Christian, I believe that everything happens for a reason, and that tragedies are no exception. People can't run from them, but rather they have to face them, and hurting themselves in anyway is not an option. So, don't ever do anything to intentionally harm yourselves, any of you. I just thought I would throw that out there in case anybody needed it. Stay tuned for the next chapter.

Beaucoup d'amour à tous,

Amélie


	15. Progress

Author's Note: I'm back

**Author's Note: **I'm back! Sorry for the long wait. I just finished my other story and I've had a lot going on with wisdom teeth and school and stuff. Now that I'm done with the other story, I'll be concentrating on this one full time. Here's chapter fifteen!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Fifteen: Progress

"WEEEEEE!"

It was a Saturday afternoon at the Potter-Black residence, and Dora seemed to be having a little bit too much fun rolling around in Harry's wheelchair, with Harry on her lap.

"This is so much fun! I wish I were in one of these all day!" Harry could almost feel Dora's excitement and imagined her hair being either pink or neon blue. Those were her two "happy colors", as she called them.

"Don't break anything," Andromeda warned from the kitchen. Well, that's where Harry assumed that she was. She said that she was going to be in there all day, so unless she was kidding, she was still in there.

"I won't break anything this time," Dora retorted with a smart mouth, something she only used with her mother.

Andromeda sighed and shook her head. "At least I don't have to pay for anything broken this time," she said.

Sirius had invited Ted, Andromeda, Dora, and Remus to spend the day with him and Harry. It was Harry's second weekend home from the hospital, and Sirius figured that he needed some enjoyment.

And anything with Dora was enjoyment…or disaster, depending on how it was looked at. This situation appeared to be enjoyment for the moment, unless she decided to crash into something. Or not decide and do it anyway, as was what normally happened.

"Where are we going?" asked Harry, holding onto the handles of the chair just in case something happened.

"Just around the living room, silly." Dora gave Harry a kiss on the top of his head "We can't go up the chairs with a wheelchair."

"Well, the motion's starting to make me sick. Can we stop?" It wasn't a lie. Harry really _was _starting to feel sick, although he was having fun with Dora. It was always an opportunity that he could never miss.

He heard Dora let out one of her signature O-I-guess-so-why-are-you-ruining-my-fun? sighs. The wheelchair stopped and as Harry grabbed hold of Dora's neck, she lifted him up. She had the most awkward perfume on today. It smelled like a cross between apples and green beans or carrots. Probably carrots, the kind that people sauté in honey glazes.

Boy, that was making Harry hungry. He could feel his stomach growling rather loudly.

"Somebody sounds hungry," Dora said playfully. Harry could feel them mov

ing about the house, but he wasn't sure where they were going.

"Just a little bit," replied Harry sheepishly. "It's your perfume. It smells like carrots and apples."

"I'm not wearing perfume," said Dora giggling. "It must be my shampoo. Boy, you really do have a good sense of smell, Harry."

And it was true, Harry knew. He had begun to notice that he could smell and hear a lot better now. It was rather strange; almost like his other senses were working more to compensate for his being blind.

Suddenly, Harry felt himself being placed gently on something soft and cushioned. It was the couch. He could feel Dora sit down beside him and wrap one arm around his waist.

"Read me something in Braille," said she. Harry felt a book being placed in his lap, his book with the Braille alphabet, of course.

"I don't feel like it," said Harry. It felt embarrassing to read, but Harry wasn't quite sure why. Probably because he had never actually _read _anything apart from the alphabet. Jana had spent the week trying to get him used to all the letters before he actually applied them, which was, of course, always what one did to learn anything at the beginning. Just step-by-step, piece-by-piece.

"Come on, Harry." He could imagine Dora looking at him with her pouty, puppy dog face. It was another one of her signature expressions, one that, unfortunately, always worked. Even with her parents.

She nudged his shoulder in a 'come on' manner. "Pleeeease," she begged. "For me?"

The begging always worked, too. As he thought about it, Harry knew that he would have to apply the letters sometime, so why not now? He took a deep breath.

"Alright," he said. "I'll read for you, Dora." Slowly, he opened the book and opened a random page. The still- present new book smell in combination with Dora's apple-carrot-honey shampoo was very odd. He put his finger to the page, and felt a something like a step on a stair case, meaning that the dots were arranged two on the bottom left, one in the middle, and two on the top right. It was the letter "T". Then, "H" and "E" followed.

"The," Harry began. The first word was "the". Now all he had to do was get through the whole sentence.

And that took a long time. He had no idea how long, but he it felt like an eternity. And Dora wouldn't let him stop until he had finished the sentence. If he couldn't figure out the letter right away and became frustrated, she made him go back to the first page where the alphabet was and figure out the letter. She was determined to make him read. Finally, he finished.

"The cat climbed over the fence." _Since when do cats climb over fences?_ _What a dumb sentence. _The people who wrote the book did not have very good sample sentences. But, Dora didn't seem to care about the awkwardness of the sentence. She was overjoyed that Harry had read it.

Giving him a great big, bone-crushing hug, she squealed delightedly and gave him an embarrassingly huge kiss on the cheek.

"Dora," he said aggravatedly.

"Sorry, Harry. But, I'm so proud of you." She squeezed him tighter; he could feel his ribs being crushed.

"That's good. You can stop now," he said in a muffled voice.

"No, I can't. I'm so happy Harry." She was crying and sobbing now.

He was glad that Dora cared about him learning, but now it was getting out of hand.

"You're suffocating me." Harry forcefully pulled away from her, his shirt covered in her tears.

But, Dora wasn't the only person excited. As soon as Harry pulled away from her, another pair of arms engulfed him.

"That was wonderful," Sirius exclaimed. It was a big shock. Harry had not even known that Sirius had been listening to him read. He, Ted, and Remus were supposed to be outside doing something. They must have come in sometime after Harry had started reading. They _had _been outside, for Harry could smell the scent of dirt and pine needles on Sirius.

Harry couldn't help but hug him back. "Thank you," he said. It was cliché, but the only thing he could think to say. It was his first time reading any actual words in Braille, so the excitement from everyone was quite an event and not one for a lot of words on Harry's part.

"We really are proud of you." It was Remus' voice, although Harry couldn't pick out exactly where he was.

"You must have worked really hard," said Ted from another part of the room. "I know it would take me days to read a sentence in Braille."

"This should be a celebration." Andromeda had joined the conversation from somewhere. "I've been cooking this meal all day. We should dedicate it to Harry's progress."

That's when Harry smelled the aroma of turkey, green beans, mashed potatoes, corn, and carrots. Andromeda had indeed cooked a lot. No wonder she had been tied up in the kitchen all day.

The meal was fantastic. Everyone laughed and talked of happy things. There was not one mention of Harry's disabilities at all, no sorrow at all. Harry felt a happiness that he had not felt in days. It was amazing how even in dark, sad times, family and friends still brought joy.

&

But, there was no joy in the life of Draco Malfoy. The entire world was dark now. Everyday was one filled with shame and guilt that would not go away. Time and time again, Draco had nightmares of being thrown out on the street, people laughing in his face, and splashing him with mud.

He knew what the future held for him. He would be forever known as the Boy Who Injured Harry Potter or the Malfoy Who Is No Malfoy, more likely the latter, as very few knew it had been he who injured Harry Potter.

He thought about it day after day, knowing that there had to be some way for him to apologize to his former enemy and his "traitor" cousin, the guilt was so unbearable.

"I wish I were a House Elf, Dobby," Draco remarked on this particular night. The clouds were ashy gray and about to pour more rain on Draco's misery. "You don't have to worry about guilt and disgrace and all that. I'm shamed on both sides."

"Master Draco's family is rather fierce," Dobby replied with a shake of his head. The Elf was not afraid of expressing his true feelings about the Malfoy family with Draco. After all, the boy shared the same.

They were in Draco's room, candles lit everywhere because of the darkness. Draco's door was locked, as his father did not allow him to be roaming the house after a certain hour at night. He said leaving his room was a privilege, something Draco no longer had.

"But, being a House Elf is not fun for Dobby," the Elf continue, gazing out the window at the dark clouds that continued to roam above them. "He must work and never be freed. Master Draco does not have to be a slave all of his life."

But, that wasn't true. Draco would be a slave all his life. A slave to his faults, his sins, his ruins, and everything that made him who he was. Those would be his masters forever, keeping him bound in the unbreakable chains of shame and guilt.

He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, which was almost completely black from the dark. What kind of person had he become? What kind of person had he been before all this? What could he do to help Potter? How would he apologize to Sirius without the man stomping off in anger and disbelief? Was he really that bad of a person? Was taking him seriously that impossible?

It must have been. At least for the kind of person he had been before all of this. Oh, how he wished he had a Time-Turner that would take him back and allow him to change the person that he had been. Then, none of this would be happening.

In a fit of rage, Draco threw his pillow off his bed, kicked his feet and pulled his hair. Short, blond strands soon littered his bed, but he didn't care. He started to cry hysterically.

Why did it have to be this way? For almost all of his life, he had been told by everyone that he was one of the luckiest boys in the world. And he was such a fool as to have believed them.

But, now, he would give anything to be as loved as Longbottom, or Weasley, or Potter. They were the ones that always had real lives. They were the ones who had the real gold. They had the _real _money, more than Draco ever had, and that money was in the form of love and happiness. He felt even more shame course its way through him mockingly as he thought about all times he had taunted them. How he wished he could have been like them now!

"Master Draco can still fix himself." Dobby's voice appeared almost out of nowhere. Draco had been so upset that he had forgotten the Elf was even there.

The boy looked up from his tear-stained, snotty, hair-covered bed at the creature that he now called his friend.

"How?" asked Draco. He could feel his eyes swelling.

"If Master Draco asks for forgiveness, he will be forgiven. No matter how long it takes."

Draco knew what he had to do. There was no denying it now.

**End Note: **So how was it? I thought I did a really good job with Draco and Dora. What do you guys think? I know it was a little short, but I wanted to get it posted quickly so that you guys knew that I wasn't abandoning you. I'll try to update as soon as I can. Please remember to review!

Merci beaucoup,

Amélie


	16. A Rough Day

Hey guys! It's been about a month since I've updated, right? I'm sorry. I've been really busy with school and college registrations and visitations and such. I'm gonna try to update once a month if possible. Here's chapter sixteen!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Sixteen: A Rough Day

"I would like to see how much you remember from my class," Remus stated politely. Harry could hear him shifting on the couch next to him, perhaps putting one leg over the other. It was something Remus would always do in class before starting to teach. Once, at the beginning of the year, poor Neville had made an attempt to imitate him, but ended up falling off his chair.

"I remember that vampires suck people's blood," Harry replied after several moments. After being out of school for nearly a month, the educational part of his brain was a little rusty. He kept his eyes fastened in the area that he knew Remus was in. It was so frustrating not being able to look someone in the eyes properly. Frustrating and embarrassing.

Jana had fire called Sirius the night before saying that she wouldn't be able to come the next day to teach Harry. She had caught a virus of some sort and had been vomiting and feverish all day. After a long useless search through people who might have been available to watch Harry but weren't, Sirius contacted Remus. Knowing that his friend had to work, Sirius was rather reluctant at asking him to do such a favor during the week. But, Remus, as always, graciously accepted.

Now, Remus and Harry were sitting on the sofa in the living room, trying to recap everything that Harry had learned in the two and a half months he was in school; and so far, Harry could not come up with much.

"Luckily," Remus chuckled lightly after Harry had failed to answer several questions accurately. "I bought this for you."

Harry heard him rummaging around through something, and soon a large book was perched in the boy's lap.

Opening the book, Harry realized that it, like all the books that Jana had given him, this one was also written in Braille.

"It's the Defense book for first years, written in Braille," Remus explained gently. "As soon as I agreed to watch you, I went out and did a little shopping. I thought you might find this book rather useful for learning."

Harry could imagine Remus smiling.

"Thanks, Remus." Harry smiled lightly and reached over to try and hug the man, but as he couldn't move his legs, it was very hard for him to shift.

"You're welcome, Harry." Remus took the liberty of scooting closer to Harry and giving him the hug that the boy had been trying to give him.

Harry didn't want to let go, so he held on tighter. He hadn't hugged Remus properly in what had to be months, since before the start of school. It felt so wonderful to be able to do it again. Suddenly, from out of the blue, a question formed in the back of Harry's mind that he could not help but ask. He finally pulled away from Remus before speaking.

"What's it like having to live with being a werewolf?" It might have been inappropriate, perhaps too personal of a question for Harry to ask, but he and Remus were almost in the same boat, or maybe they _were _in the same boat. Both of them had to live with problems that they couldn't help, and Harry, like Remus, was probably going to be treated differently in the future because of his disabilities.

Remus did not respond immediately, and for a moment, Harry got the impression that he had hurt Remus' feelings. Feeling the guilt creep into his veins, Harry started to say, "I'm sorry," when Remus let out a deep breath and finally began to speak.

"I'm used to it now." The man's voice was shallow, thoughtful, and grave. The rain outside the house suddenly began to pour loudly, and thunder began to sound. "When I was younger, it was much hard for me to accept it. No one wanted to be my friend for years, and I was always being teased and shunned. But, as I got older, I learned to accept my life the way it was."

Remus put one arm around Harry's shoulder. "You will, too, Harry. Someday, the difficulties will pass, and you'll learn to handle being disabled. Besides, you have many people who love you. We won't let you stay miserable forever. "

Harry thought for a moment. He didn't like the way his life was turning out at all. One day, he would be happy and would almost forget that he was disabled, and the next, he remembered and was sad again. But, Remus was right. He did have many people to love and support him. So, there was indeed an upside to this tragedy.

"You're right." Harry pushed his misery out of the way and gave Remus a sincere, wide smile. "I do have a family that loves me. I guess, there's an upside to every bad thing that happens, isn't there?"

"That's right," Remus chuckled. "There's always a bright side, although some bright sides are harder to see than others. Now, how about we get back to your education, young man?"

Harry groaned playfully.

&

"Aren't we supposed to be training?" asked Dora, her entire body soaked to the bone with rain. Of all the days _not_ to bring an umbrella, this had to be the worst one.

She and Sirius had left the Ministry and had Apparated here about thirty seconds earlier. They were standing in front of a tidy (although wet) apartment complex somewhere outside of London. Sirius had not specifically told Dora why they had come here, but he was carrying some flowers that Sirius had charmed to be water-resistant and a card that was hidden, dry, in his robes.

Dora could not figure out what Sirius had in mind when charming the _flowers _to be water-resistant. Flowers were _supposed _to be wet. Water was the most important part of their life cycle. Besides, as soon as whoever would receive the flowers got them, the first thing they would do is put them in a vase. Why couldn't he had used the charm on something that _didn't _need to get wet, like him and Dora?

"We're giving these to Harry's Braille teacher," Sirius explained, ignoring Dora's earlier question about why they weren't training. He, too, was drenched with rain, and his lips seemed to be turning blue. "She's very sick and I thought it would be nice to give her a get well present."

Then, it hit Dora like a ton of bricks.

"That's not all, is it?" She knew it couldn't be. There was no way. It was something more, and she was going to get it out of him.

"What?" Sirius responded a bit too quickly in a way that was a bit too posed, like he had planned that as the answer just in case anyone asked him.

"That's not the only reason why—"

But, before she could finish, there was a loud crash of thunder and Sirius had grabbed her by the elbow and was soon leading her up the stairs. They stopped at Apartment 137, on the third floor. There was a wind chime hanging from a hook beside the door, and there was a patio lawn chair opposite the door.

Sirius tapped the door lightly, and within about a minute, the door opened to reveal a pale woman with bags under her eyes and messy blonde hair. It was no doubt that she looked more pitiful than Dora, who's currently blue hair and robes were drenched in all their glory with freezing cold water.

Nevertheless, despite the woman's current state of misery, she smiled brightly at the prospect of seeing two guests at her door.

"Hello, Sirius." Her voice was more hoarse than anything Dora had ever heard, and, although quite young, she had the air of one of those old women whom everyone was afraid would fall over dead at any moment.

"Good morning, Jana," Sirius cut in before Jana had the chance to say anything else, which, in her state, was probably a good thing. "I wanted to come buy and give you and get well gift. You've done so much for Harry, and I really appreciate it. SO, I thought it was only appropriate for me to give you something in your time of need."

That was true, Dora knew. Sirius was grateful for all the Jana had done, but Dora couldn't help thinking that Sirius might have had another motive. Then again, half the boys who ever gave _her_ stuff never had a real relationship in mind. So, Sirius' actions could just have been for courtesy.

Jana smiled, but looked as though another round of puke was about to come up the pipes. _Poor thing,_ Dora thought. _She does have it rough._

"Thank you, Sirius." She took them feebly, making her look even more like an old woman. "I can put them over in the vase my mother gave me for Christmas last year. Now I finally have the chance to use it."

She slowly walked over toward a large gray vase with hand drawn pink flowers on the sides. It was in all seriousness a lovely piece of art. Dora couldn't imagine why no other flowers had ever gone inside of it.

"Oh, wait, Jana." Sirius walked quickly over to the vase and performed a dis-water proofing charm on the flowers before Jana could put them inside. Then reaching into the pocket of his robes, he pulled out the get well card he had been hiding safely away in there.

"This is also for you," he said, smiling.

Then, Dora saw it. A blush. A bright red blush. There was no way this was just an act of courtesy.

Jana chuckled slightly, making the slightest bit of color creep back into her face. "Why, thank you. I'll keep it close to my heart."

Was she being serious or just funny? If they had the same feelings for each other, Harry just might get a godmother. Well, maybe she wouldn't be called a godmother, as his parents didn't assign her, but she would be a mother figure all the same. Boy, this was exciting.

_But, don't get too carried away, Dora. _The teenager warned herself. There had been many a time in her life when she had thought the boy she was dating would be her true love, and obviously, the thought was never correct. Besides, they weren't even dating yet. There was no reason for her to get suspicious, or even get involved, for that matter.

"Well, I'm getting a bit woozy." Jana put a hand to her forehead. "I guess you guys had better be going." She gave another smile to Sirius. "Thanks again for the flowers and the card. I really appreciate."

"Get well soon." Sirius smiled again.

"Nice meeting you, Miss." Jana addressed Dora for the first time.

It was then that Dora realized that the two of them had not even been introduced.

"This is Nymphadora Tonks," said Sirius, always wanting to be the one to make the introductions. "She's my cousin and Auror trainee."

"Nice to meet you, Ma'am. I hope you get better soon." Dora extended her hand and shook Jana's pale one. It was very hot, as though she might have a fever of one hundred and twenty degrees.

"Thank you. Well, I better get back to bed. Thanks again, Sirius." Jana smiled weakly and led Sirius and Dora to the door, back to the freezing rain.

"Bye, Jana. Hope to see you in a few days." Now, there was definitely something on Sirius' face, even in the rain.

"Bye, Sirius. Bye Nymmora. Thanks for coming."

"Nym-pha-dora." Dora had to correct her. She hated it when people got her name wrong, even if they were sick.

"Sorry," Jana chuckled. "I'm always bad with names when I first meet people. See you around." She closed the door slowly, leaving the two of them outside.

"She seemed very nice," Dora commented, being truthful. She was very nice and it was a pity that she was so sick.

"She's lovely," Sirius stated. He still had that look in his eye, as though Jana was still standing in front of him.

It was only a matter of time before he popped the question, Dora knew. She just hoped it wouldn't be like that Muggle story her father had read her about the teenagers who married each other after three days of meeting and wound up killing themselves. That certainly wouldn't be the happiness that Sirius wanted.

&

Unfortunately, there was not an inch of happiness to be found in Defense Against the Dark Arts class that day. With Professor Lupin gone, there had to be a substitute to teach the class. And of course, Dumbledore had to go and appoint the worst person possible.

Snape had entered the classroom with the usual billowing of his long black robes and a shout for everyone to be quiet and pay attention.

"In here you will all follow the exact same rules as in my Potions class," he remarked icily, his greasy black hair appearing to be stuck to the sides of his face.

Hermione thought she might puke.

"No mischief, no talking, and no charm casting." Snape was acting as though he were their permanent teacher.

What? No spell casting? The students had cast plenty of spells in here with Lupin. Hermione was confused. How could they learn defensive spells without casting charms? She couldn't have heard it right.

"But, sir, we—" She realized too late what she was doing.

"Detention, Granger!" Snape snarled at her face. "I just said, 'no talking.' Besides, there is no room for backtalk. Twenty points for Gryffindor."

Simultaneously, all the Gryffindors glared over at Hermione. All except Seamus, who, like always, was not paying a wink of attention, but instead was doodling nonsense in his notebook.

"Today, we are going to learn about the uses of unicorn blood." Snape's voice was low and his shadow was creeping around each and every student. Thunder was rattling lightly outside, and everyone was on edge.

Suddenly, there was a loud ripping noise as Snape tore Seamus' notebook from his hands and shredded all of the pages onto the floor.

"As I was saying," Snape threw the book back on Seamus' desk with a loud smack. "Turn to page 112 in your text books."

Not needing to be told twice, the students rummaged through their bags and did as they were told.

"Now," Snape continued to pace through every aisle like a vulture, making sure the children were really following directions. "I would like a volunteer to come up to the front of the class and read for all of us."

Everyone stared at the man silently. Even Hermione. There was no way she was going to go up there and humiliate herself, especially when half the class would love to laugh at her anyway.

"No volunteers?" Snape's dark eyes peered out menacingly at all the students. He crossed his arms and sighed in a satisfied manner. "Well, then. I will just have to pick one of you myself."

Beside Hermione, Ron gulped and sunk down into his seat.

_Now, there's a smart move, Ron. _Hermione thought sarcastically. _As soon as Snape sees you down there, he'll immediately pick you._

Of course, like in everyone else's case, there were times when Hermione's predictions were wrong; and today just happened to be one of those days.

"Longbottom!" Snape's eyes shot over to Neville as though they were darts and he were the bull's eye. "Come up here and read page 112 for us," Snape barked.

Hermione could see Neville's face pale ten shades whiter than normal, and his hands were gripping the bottom of his seat so hard that it looked as though it could break in half at any moment.

But, at any rate, he obeyed. Slowly, and with all the reluctance he could possibly muster, Neville rose from his seat and walked to the front of the class like a murderer to the gallows.

His hands were trembling violently, almost seizure-like, as he held the book up to his face.

"P-p-p-page one twelve…" he paused nervously and looked around the room, but, predictably, that turned out not to be such a brilliant idea.

"Keep reading, Longbottom!" Snape shouted in the boy's ear. "You are have got to be the most useless boy I have ever had the misfortune to teach."

Neville took a deep breath and began to read again. "U-unicorn blood has s-seven uses. The first is…."

There was another pause, another desperate glance around the room.

"LONGBOTTOM!" Snape roared the loudest he had ever done in the three months of school.

But, unfortunately for Snape—and for Neville—, yelling even louder didn't make the situation better. It made it ten times worse.

Within three seconds, Neville's face had gone from white to green. Within five seconds, Snape's shiny black shoes were enveloped in the nastiest, most putrid stomach contents anyone had ever smelled.

**End Note: **I think that was my favorite chapter so far! What do you guys think? Did you like it? Please leave me some good reviews. Thanks!

À Bientôt,

Amélie


	17. Hogsmeade

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! Long time no see. Sorry. I really hope you guys like this chapter.

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Seventeen: Hogsmeade

No one could imagine all the torture that Neville had to endure the days following that aftermath of his vomiting on Snape's brand new, tailor-made shoes shoes. His grandmother sent him a Howler telling him how embarrassed and angry she was. But, no matter how embarrassed _she _was, it was no where near as close to the embarrassment that Neville felt, especially after being sent that Howler. He had turned red in the face and ran from the Great Hall, screaming in terror with the rest of the students' eyes following him like hawks.

On top of the embarrassment, of course, there had to be some other cruel form of punishment, especially when Snape was involved. He was always one to make sure that students had their appropriate share of misery. That being his policy, he made Neville spend five hours after school every day for two weeks, doing various disgusting chores. He cleaned toilets, washed bedpans, and even scrubbed down the Owlery on his hands and knees.

But, the worst chore of all had to be taking care of Mrs. Norris, Filch's creepy cat. Her beady red eyes followed him everywhere and her abrupt bouts of hissing always made him yelp in terror. Brushing her hair fifteen times was something that he hoped he _never _had to do again. Every strand was like a cobweb, tangled and excruciatingly hard to untangle, which provoke more hissing from the cat. She scratched him at least ten times, leaving deep lacerations on his hands, face, and practically anywhere else that she was able to reach.

It was such a relief when all the pain and torture was over. Then, finally, the Saturday arrived when all the Gryffindor first years, along with the rest of the students third year and above, could go to Hogsmeade, the only totally wizard-inhabited village in Britain, and the best one for any gift.

The second year Gryffindors, as can be imagined, were not too happy about not being able to go to the wonderful village. Katie Bell wanted to go so badly that she made a petition for all the students in her year to be allowed to go. Of course, McGonagall paid no attention and threw the piece of parchment away as soon as it was handed to her as she was about to leave with the qualifying students.

"You know the rules, Miss Bell," the strict witch said as she crumpled the parchment in her hands. "Second years are not allowed in Hogsmeade, even if the students _do_ sign a so-called petition. These children—" she indicated the Gryffindor first years who were near her—"are going because of a special case. And as you do _not_ have any specific reason, you may not go."

Katie's nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. She looked as though she were about to explode.

"Come along, children." McGonagall turned on her heel and herded the children out the large oak doors.

As Neville was about to follow the rest of the students out the doors, he heard someone behind him say, "Excuse me" and felt whoever was speaking tug his sleeve.

He turned around and noticed a girl of Asian descent looking at him. She was a bit taller than he and had long straight hair, some of which was trapped underneath her blue and bronze wool scarf.

"Yes?" he said a bit uncertainly. He turned to see whether or not everyone was still in sight. He didn't want to get lost, as he had already done it so many times before.

"Hi," said the girl. " I know you're going to Hogsmeade to get Harry a gift. Do you mind getting him something for me, too?"

"Um—" Neville began, uncertain of what to say, but the girl cut him off hurriedly.

"I mean, I would get him something myself, but I'm a second year and we're not allowed to go, as you can already tell from the rejection that Katie just got." She smiled shyly in the hope that he would say that he acquiesce to her request.

"Uh, sure…. I'll do it. What do you—?"

"Neville, come on!" Ron appeared and grabbed Neville's arm. "We gotta go! McGonagall'll get mad if you're lost."

"Anything," the girl responded to Neville's unfinished question as Ron was hauling him off. "Just get him anything for me. And remember to tell him it was from Cho when he gets it."

"Sure. Bye!" Neville responded hurriedly as Ron pulled him out the door.

&&&&

"Have any of you ever been to Hogsmeade?" Lavender asked as they rode in the carriage that was to take them to the village. It was much more uncomfortable than the train, as all seven of them were crammed into one carriage like a can of sardines.

"I went with me mam once," Seamus commented, drawing pictures with his fingers on the frosted window. Even in the most uncomfortable places, it seemed Seamus always found somewhere to draw absentmindedly. "Me dad came, too. He thought it was awesome. Being Muggle and all, he doesn't get to be around much Wizard stuff, apart from what Mam does at home. I thought it was pretty neat. Honeydukes was my favorite. Lots of candy. I can't wait to get more."

"Your dad came?" asked Dean. "I thought only wizards could come there."

"Muggles can come if they're with wizards," said Seamus, drawing what looked to be a sheep.

When they finally arrived, each of them found it to be one of the most beautiful places that he or she had ever seen. To Neville, it looked much like those villages on the Christmas cards that his grandmother sent to her friends every year. The snow was neatly covering the thatch roofs of all the buildings. Reefs and garlands were hung on doors and around trees. There were even floating candles like there were in the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

As snow began to fall, children ran out of the shops and shouted with joy, trying to catch snowflakes on their tongues. But, that was not something that looked like fun to Neville. He could feel his hands, his poor, cat mutilated hands, chapping through his gloves. He just wanted to get warm.

"Let's go in there!" Seamus pointed to a building near them with a sign that read "The Hog's Head". "They have really good butterbeer and ice cream."

"Ice cream?" Parvati echoed with a look of incredulity. "Why would _any _of us want ice cream?"

"Just saying," said Seamus. "Come on, it's freezing."

The seven of them walked graciously to the door of The Hog's Head. As Seamus opened the door to let everyone in, Neville noticed a sign in big red letters on the outside wall.

NO GERMANS ALLOWED

KEINE DEUTSCHEN GEWÄHRTEN

"No Germans allowed?" asked Neville. "What does the owner have against Germans?" Neville had heard of some people being prejudiced against others because of their nationality, but to have a big sign openly expressing that they were prejudiced was something different.

"No idea," replied Dean. "But, we're not German. So we can go in. Come on, I'm freezing."

As they walked inside, a blissful feeling of warmth enveloped them all. People were sitting over in the bar and in the booths and tables, chattering away and eating the most delicious-looking food Neville had ever seen.

"Welcome to the Hog's Head, children. Are all of you together?" A young woman with bright red hair that could only be described as dyed or unnatural came up to stand in front of the Gryffindors. Judging by her apron and the way she carried herself, she must have been a waitress.

"Yes." Hermione took control. "We're all together. We'd like a booth, please ma'am."

"Yes, a booth for seven. There's one available. Right this way." The waitress led them to a large booth in the corner.

"My name is Christina, by the way. Can I get you anything to drink?" She had a warm personality that came with a huge smile that reached from ear to ear. "And no, you can't have any alcohol. Everything from the bar is off limits to children under seventeen."

"Then, I'll have a butterbeer," Hermione said.

"Make that two, please," said Lavender.

"Hot chocolate," said Parvati.

"A milkshake with extra ice cream," said Seamus. Everyone rolled his or her eyes.

"I'll have a butterbeer, too," said Dean.

"Butterbeer," said Ron.

"Hot chocolate sounds good," said Neville.

Christina wrote down their drink orders in a little notebook. "Ok, so that's four butterbeers, two hot chocolates, and one," she chuckled slightly, "milkshake with extra ice cream?"

"That's it," everyone said in unison.

With that, Christina left to fill their drink orders.

"So what is everyone going to buy Harry?" asked Hermione, leaning back in the booth. She seemed very tired.

"I want to look for him a chess set," said Ron. "I don't know if he has one, but I heard that playing games helps blind people with their senses. So, I figured I'd get him one. Plus, he really liked chess when he was here. And it's not too hard to play if you're blind, I figured. All you have to do is know the moves of each of the pieces, which Harry does, and listen to the spaces that the other player calls out. Then, you know if you're able to move a certain piece or not."

"That sounds like it would be a good idea, Ron." Hermione smiled, which was very strange to Neville because he had never seen Hermione smile at something _Ron _had ever said or done. It was a phenomenon. "What's everyone else going to get him?"

No one else had any ideas.

"I thought about it, but I couldn't think of anything good," said Parvati. "So I thought I would figure it out when I came here."

That's when Neville remembered his promise that he would buy something for Cho. He couldn't forget about that.

When, Christina came back with their drinks, she took their food orders. Neville and Seamus were the only ones who actually ordered any food: some vegetable beef stew for Neville and blueberry cobbler for Seamus.

Once they were all done eating and drinking, they split up to find gifts for Harry. The boys went in one direction, the girls in the other.

Apart from Quidditch, Neville had no idea what Harry liked. And the fact that he was now an invalid didn't help Neville's decision much, either. Neville couldn't get him anything that would require him to jump or see. It had to be something he could touch or hear. A chess set _was _a good idea. Too bad Ron had thought of it first.

Seamus, Neville knew, was going to get Harry something to draw, even if he didn't have an idea now. Neville knew that would end up being his present, and it was also a very good one. There had been a lot of a lot of Wizarding artists, especially painters, who were blind.

"What about this place?" asked Dean, pointing to a little shop painted a dark purple. It had candles in each window and holly garnished around the door.

"Sure, I'll do anything to get out of this weather," said Ron whose lips were turning blue.

The shop was filled with all kinds of different things: toys, games, books, clothes, jewelry, gardening supplies, artwork. It seemed like there was everything except food.

Predictably, Ron and Seamus were able to find their gifts in a flash and were ready within five minutes of arriving to check out.

"I'm going to see if there's anything over in the music section," Dean said as he walked in that direction.

Now _that _was another good present. Music would really help with Harry's senses, too. Neville wished he could have come up with something that good.

He sighed and racked his brain for _something. _There had to be something. What could Harry do at home? What activities could he do while handicapped?

Then, after what seemed like over an hour, Neville had an idea: books! There had to be some Braille books in this shop. It had everything else in the world. Neville had even seen a sign language game. Of course, there would be something in Braille here.

The books section was by far the most crowded. Neville had to squeeze through at least a dozen people to even get over to the large bookshelf.

It was filled with almost as many books as the Hogwarts library. There was fiction, nonfiction, horror, fantasy, drama, foreign, and even tragedy. Then, Neville's eyes widened as he remembered Hermione's love of books and how she would just love to get Harry one. But, that didn't matter. Neville brushed the thought from his mind. There was no way, even if Hermione did give Harry a book, that she and Neville would get the same one.

He continued to look through all the shelves to see if there was anything at all in Braille; but from what he could see, everything was all in the English alphabet.

Twenty minutes later, after looking through every shelf, Neville could find absolutely nothing in Braille.

Now, was the time for him to go ask the owner or the manager and see if the shop _did _have anything or not.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Neville approached the counter, trying not to get in the way of any of those who were purchasing items, and addressed a short middle-aged man with brown hair.

"Yes?" The man peered at Neville from behind the counter. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," said Neville timidly. Something about the man scared Neville, almost as bad as Mrs. Norris. "I was wondering if you had any books that were written in Braille. You know, for blind people?"

The man looked annoyed. "Yes, I know Braille is for _blind _people. There's no need to explain. I probably know more about it than you do." His haughty attitude was a red-hot contrast to Christina's kind and bubbly one.

He turned around and rummaged through some papers behind him. Placing some oddly shaped spectacles on this knows, he read from a yellowish piece of parchment that looked as though it had been written on decades ago.

"The Braille section is over on the far left of the bookshelf," the man told Neville coldly, reading the parchment.

"Uh-thank you," Neville said politely. The man did not respond, but went back to checking out customers.

"Are you almost done, Neville?" Ron, Seamus, and Dean, packages in hand, were waiting in a corner by the door.

"Almost," Neville remarked hurriedly. It was embarrassing being the last one done. Then, again, he was _always _the last one, _always _the oddball. So, it wasn't that much different than usual.

He didn't understand why he hadn't noticed any Braille books before. He was sure that he had looked on the far left and had not seen anything. This time, he took a closer look. Soon, he found the reason why he had not seen any Braille books before: there was only one left.

It was kind of unnerving in a way. How many blind people were there that the _entire _section was sold out? Either there were many or the section had never been that big at all. Hopefully, it was the latter reason.

The book Neville took off the shelf was very large. It was leather-bound with gold Braille markings on it. The label on the bind, written in English, read: _The Tales of Beadle the Bard: Braille Edition._

This was the perfect book, Neville thought. Of course, Harry would love to read this book, and it was definitely not one that Hermione would ever buy him.

As he was getting ready to get in line to check out, he remembered: _Cho's present! _He had almost forgotten it for the second time!

But, he knew he had to hurry and think fast. What would a girl get a boy?

Rummaging around in different sections, Neville could find nothing remotely close to what a girl would give to a boy. It was either too girly or so masculine that a girl would never touch it.

Then, he noticed, by the gardening tools, many different kinds of flowers.

There were pansies, daisies, tulips, and _roses! _

A rose would be a wonderful present from a girl to a boy. Neville had seen many times where girls had given flowers to their sweethearts for Valentine's Day and for birthdays. Even when Neville's grandfather lay dying in the hospital a few years before, his grandmother had put lovely roses in a vase by his bedside.

Now, granted, Harry wouldn't be able to actually _see _the rose, but he would certainly be able to smell and touch it. After all, Neville's grandfather, locked in his coma, could not see the flowers, either. But, they were a symbol of his grandmother's love. And that was what these roses had to be from Cho to Harry.

The decision made, Neville chose the largest and reddest roses of the bunch to buy.

**End Note: **I really hope you guys liked this chapter. It was definitely one of the longest that I've written. Hopefully, I'll be able to continue the chapters at this length. Please tell me what you thought about this chapter! I've been so happy with all of your reviews so far. Please continue! Oh, and the next chapter will be from Harry and Sirius's points of view on this same Saturday. Please stay tuned! Thanks for sticking with me.

Happy Thanksgiving to all you Americans!

Amélie


	18. Nightmares and Chicken Soup for the Soul

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Eighteen: Nightmares and Chicken Soup for the Soul

Sirius pushed his hair out of his eyes as he looked over the file of a convicted criminal whom he had recently jailed. The man was a suspected Death Eater accused of kidnapping a nine-year-old girl, and he had had several prior arrests for theft and domestic violence against his wife. However, as far as Sirius could see, there was no evidence at all that he had anything to do with the little girl's disappearance. The only proof anyone had was an argument that the girl's father had had with the man weeks before the girl had disappeared, if that were evidence at all. Furthermore, there was no proof that he had ever been a Death Eater. He had no trace of the Dark Mark anywhere on his body and he seemed to know next to nothing about any of Voldemort's other supporters.

Dora was turning out to be much of a nuisance. She had begged Sirius for what seemed like hours on end to let her come to bring the man into custody. She constantly complained that she never got the chance to see any _real _action, and that, after all, was the whole reason why she was training to become an Auror in the first place. But, Sirius tried to change her mind by explaining that she was too inexperienced and needed more training before she could be an active part of law enforcement.

However, instead of helping her come to realize that she needed to wait, this explanation had made the teenager even more furious. In fact, Dora had taken a "vow of silence", as her parents had said she was calling it, against Sirius for the past two days and had done nothing but glare at him with a you're-so-mean-you-don't-let-me-do-anything expression on her face.

On top of all that, Fudge had been nagging Sirius to get the case over with just so Fudge himself could never be sued for having an "irresponsible law enforcement", and there were dozens of other crimes, arrests, and felonies that were being thrown into Sirius' face on a daily basis.

Sirius stretched his thin arms over his head and yawned. He could feel the bags creeping underneath his eyes. He could not remember the last day he had had a full night of sleep. The past week, the most he had slept in a night was four hours and, that had been on Monday.

Gazing out the living room window, Sirius could see a fresh blanket of snow that had formed on the lawn, and there was more snow falling from the sky. A pang of sadness stabbed Sirius's stomach at the sight of the beautiful snow. Harry's favorite part of winter had always been the snow. He would sit by the window every morning and watch it sprinkle down from the sky, and then he would go out, occasionally with Dora, and wallow in it, making snow angels, snow men, and even having snowball fights, giggling and laughing his heart out.

But, that wouldn't be the case this year….

All in all, Harry had been doing much better, with only a few frustrated outbursts. Jana had done an excellent job of helping Sirius out with Harry whenever possible, and had even stayed at the house later on the nights she had off work as secretary so that Sirius could stay later at the Ministry.

At the moment, Harry was fast asleep on the sofa, his wheelchair right next to it. From a physical perspective, he looked like any other child. No one would have been able to tell that he had a disability at all.

Little by little, the boy began to stir, his hands and arms in movement, while his legs remained motionless. Noticing this, Sirius had it in mind to sit next to him, just in case he was about to awake.

It was another few minutes before he actually did. Harry's large green eyes, as sightless as they were, shot open, as if on guard.

"Sirius?" Harry said uncertainly, in a panicked voice.

"I'm here, Harry," Sirius answered quietly, stroking Harry's black hair, which was even messier than usual due to the extent at which he had slept on it.

Harry reached up, and, taking Sirius' hand off his head, entwined it with his own as though to make sure that Sirius was there and would not leave him.

"Did you sleep well?" Sirius asked, hoping Harry hadn't had a nightmare.

"No," Harry said slowly, holding Sirius' hand tighter. "I had a bad dream."

He sniffed and put Sirius' hand up to his face as if it were some type of soft blanket.

"What was the dream about, Harry?" Sirius gently sat Harry up, allowing Harry to rest his head against Sirius' shoulder. "What happened?"

The boy suddenly had tears forming in his sightless eyes.

"Th-these people came and they grabbed me and took me away from you, and y-y—" The tears were now flowing down his face now and he was sobbing loudly. His hands tightened around Sirius' waist. Sirius could feel Harry's arms touching his ribs.

"Calm down, Harry. It's okay," Sirius soothingly rubbed Harry's back in an effort to reassure him. "It was just a dream. You can finish. What happened next?"

"You tried to get me, and then, they hit you and—and you went unconscious; and they took me away and I didn't see you again." He buried his face in Sirius' shoulder.

"Oh, Harry." Sirius hugged him tightly and gave him a kiss on his head, rocking him back and forth in his arms. He couldn't imagine how scary that dream must have been, especially in Harry's condition. What would anyone possibly do with Harry if Sirius weren't there? How could they possibly strip Sirius of his guardianship, especially now, of all times? It was a definite nightmare if there ever was one.

After a few minutes of rocking, Harry was finally calm and asked politely if he could eat something.

"What would you like?" Sirius asked gently, wondering what time it was getting to be. The grandfather clock in the living room had been broken for several weeks and Sirius had not quite gotten around to fixing it. The house was abnormally quiet. Hedwig, fast asleep in her cage over by Sirius' desk, matched quite well with the snow.

"Soup, please," Harry responded.

Soup was something Harry had not had in a long time, not since he had been home, at least.

"Okay," Sirius responded, a bit unsure whether or not Harry would be able to eat it. He wasn't sure how easy eating liquid food without being able to see it would be. But, Sirius wanted to make Harry happy, and if soup was what would make him happy, then that was fine with Sirius.

Placing Harry in his wheelchair and bringing him over to the kitchen, Sirius began preparing a pot of chicken noodle soup. It had always been Harry's favorite. He let his wand do most of the work so that he could sit at the table with Harry.

After two minutes, the soup was boiling and ready to eat. Sirius walked over to the stove and poured some of the soup into a bowl for Harry.

"Thank you, Sirius," Harry said sweetly as his godfather placed the hot bowl in front of him and a spoon into his hand.

Sitting down next to Harry, Sirius watched as the boy slowly felt for the bowl and dipped this spoon into it. He carefully brought the spoon out of the bowl, but as he brought it half way to his lips, the spoon spilled onto Harry's hand, into his lap, and onto his wheelchair. Not being able to see the spoon, Harry was not able to make sure that he was tilting the spoon correctly. Or perhaps it had something to do with the nerves in his hands. Could there be something wrong with them, too?

Harry started crying as he had done a few minutes before, only this time, he was doing it with more frustration rather than fear.

"It's alright, Harry. Don't cry," Sirius rubbed his back again. "It was an accident. It's hard for you to eat it because you can't see what you're doing. Liquid foods need much more attention than solid ones. Here, let me help."

Sirius tried to take the spoon from Harry's hand when the boy furiously pulled the spoon away from his godfather.

"NO!" he shouted, his face growing red. "I WILL NOT HAVE YOU FEED ME! I'm enough of a burden for you to have to bathe me and dress me and take me to the bathroom! You are not doing anything else for me!"

Harry went crazy and started screaming, pulling his hair, and scratching his face. If his legs could move, he would definitely be kicking everything around him.

"HARRY, STOP IT!" Sirius pulled him from his wheelchair and tried to pin him to the floor to get him under control. He grabbed his wrists to keep the boy from scratching his face any longer.

But, Harry kept screaming and yelling. "Why you I have to be such a burden?" He sobbed, the tears flowing freely now. "Why do I have to cause you so much pain?"

He attempted to hit himself, but Sirius held steadfast to his small wrists.

"Harry, stop this! You are not a burden, and you don't cause me any pain!"

"Yes, I do!" Harry was now angry and crying as loud as he possibly could. "Don't you think I hear all the stress your under? Everything you've told Jana and Ted and Andromeda? You've hardly gotten any sleep and you're working late all the time! You've got so much to do and I'm just one more problem you have to deal with! IT WOULD BE BETTER IF I JUST DIED!"

"NO, HARRY!" Sirius grabbed Harry's arms and made him sit up. "DON'T EVER SAY THAT AGAIN! I DO NOT WANT YOU DEAD AND YOU ARE NOT A BURDEN TO ME!"

He pulled Harry close and smothered him with kisses, not ever wanting to let go of him again.

"Do not ever say that again, Harry James." Sirius kept repeating over and over again.

&&&&

Finally, after Harry had calmed down for the second time that day, Sirius asked him, "Are you still hungry?"

In truth, Harry's stomach was growling wildly, and he had been craving soup for quite some time now.

"Okay," Harry gave the first smiled he had given Sirius all day.

"Alright," Sirius responded. Then, Harry felt his godfather place his hands on his face. "But, first, you have to repeat something for me." He said this rather sternly, as though he wanted Harry to recite an oath of some sort.

Low and behold, that was exactly what Sirius wanted him to do.

"First, I want you to say, 'Sirius, I promise that I will never blame myself for your problems ever again'."

His voice was grave. Harry knew it was no joke.

He placed his hands on Sirius' face to make sure he was level with his godfather, and he repeated:

"Sirius, I promise that I will never blame myself for your problems..."

"Ever again," Sirius repeated the last two words, wanting Harry to finish.

"Ever again," Harry answered.

Sirius caressed his godson's cheek lovingly. "And now say, 'Sirius, I promise I won't ever say that I'm better off dead again'."

Harry took a deep breath to get the words out. "Sirius, I promise I won't ever say that I'm better off dead again."

"And now say, 'I love you'." Harry could hear Sirius choke on his words. He could imagine him crying. Harry felt ashamed for having hurt his godfather's feelings so much.

"I-I love you." Harry broke down in tears and threw his arms around his godfather's waist, wanting to never let go. Sirius, already very thin, had lost weight, Harry noticed. How much stress had he really been going through?

"I love you too, Harry." Harry felt his godfather's warm tears against his cheek.

He knew right then that he could never disappoint his godfather again. Sirius picked him up and placed him gently back into his wheelchair.

"And you're still hungry after all that?" His godfather asked him. Harry could still make out the sadness in his voice.

"Yes, sir," Harry said in a small voice, wanting to be as polite as possible. He couldn't make his godfather angry again. He didn't want to.

He heard Sirius mutter a spell, presumably one that re-warmed the soup, and place the spoon back in the bowl.

"Open your mouth, Harry," Sirius said. Harry felt like a two-year-old all over again, but at the moment, he could care less.

He felt the warm soup slide into his mouth and down his throat. It was delicious and yet, it felt so awkward to be eating soup after so long.

He may have not had a normal life like other kids, but at least he had a life with someone who loved him.

**Author's Note: **I hope you guys liked this chapter. I'm sorry it was short, but I wanted to get it up fast so y'all could have something to read while I spent my Christmas vacation filling out scholarship applications. I know, fun, right? (Rolls eyes sarcastically.) I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I almost started crying when I wrote it. I think it's one of the more emotional chapters that I've written so far. I'm not trying to depress people and get them to kill themselves over this story. I don't believe that people should want to die for any reason. I believe that Jesus wants us to live happy lives and not focus on death. That's why I had Harry and Sirius have that talk about Harry not wishing to be dead anymore; and no, I'm not trying to convert anybody to Christianity, I just want to help people who are in that suicidal situation, as I myself have been. Please review and don't get offended!

À Bientôt,

Amélie

PS: How many of you are fans of the Unbroken Universe? It's an AU series by Robin4. I'm asking because I wrote my own little conclusion to it, but I haven't gotten any reviews or feedback at all from the last chapter that I posted. The story is entitled "The Last Hope", and if any of y'all are fans of the UU, PLEASE READ IT!! Merci beaucoup


	19. The Boy in Forest Green

**Author's Note: **I just couldn't wait. I had to start this chapter. Scholarships can wait a couple more days, right?

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Nineteen: The Boy in Forest Green

The house was quiet. It was well after nine o'clock, the time at which Lucius Malfoy always headed off to work. Narcissa was somewhere down in the kitchen, either pondering over the next nine-hundred galleon items she would buy for herself that day or stashing those items that she already bought so that her husband wouldn't find them. Frankly, Draco could careless about what his mother was doing. Although her actually leaving would be preferable to Draco, as he would then be free to leave without her suspicion, as long as it was something that would distract her from noticing him, it was fine with him.

It had taken awhile for Draco to make the decision on whether or not to do this. But, he finally decided that he had to. It was his way to make amends with both Sirius and Harry, and get away from his horrible, ever-shameful parents.

The night before, he had stayed up late, trying to pack his most needed belongings in his backpack. Since he was underage and therefore not allowed to use magic, he could not transfigure his trunk into anything small, so a backpack would have to do. Besides, once he had gotten to his destination, he was sure he could get anything else he needed from there.

"Remember, Dobby," Draco reminded his loyal House-Elf as he swung his backpack over his shoulder, "whatever my parents do or say to you, _whatever _they do, _do not tell them where I am_."

Of course, Draco knew that once House-Elves were told specifically not to do or say something, they could not, under any circumstances whatsoever, disobey whatever that something was. But, Draco wanted to be sure that he had made it absolutely clear to Dobby what he meant.

"Dobby promises that he will not reveal Master Draco's location to anyone," the House-Elf squeaked, looking as though he might cry. He and Draco had become very close over the past few months.

Draco patted the Elf on the shoulder.

"I'm sure we'll see each other again, Dobby. I just have to get away from my parents for a while and set a few things right with the rest of my family."

_Or a lot of things, _Draco thought, a pang of regret bashing his stomach like a hammer. There were a lot of things he needed to set right with his family.

"Dobby will miss Master Draco," said the Elf sadly.

"I'll miss you, too, Dobby." Four months prior, Draco would never have put a grain of thought into saying such a thing to Dobby. Now, however, it was definitely one of the first things he had thought of to say before leaving. "Good bye, Dobby."

"Dobby wishes Master Draco well."

Suddenly, Dobby did something that Draco would never have expected. He ran over to hug him and broke into sobs.

"Dobby, sh, sh," Draco whispered, not wanting his mother to hear the commotion. "It's okay, Dobby. You'll see me soon. Sh!"

Draco gave Dobby a hug to calm him down. After Dobby had finally regained his senses, Draco told him that he couldn't stay.

"I have to go, Dobby. But, I promise I'll see you soon."

He opened the door to his room slowly, after hearing Dobby Apparate to another part of the house. His mother was definitely in the kitchen, no doubt deciding her useless shopping for the day; her mumbling was easily traceable.

It was both sad and embarrassing for Draco to see his mother act so carelessly. Almost all the other students' at Hogwarts mothers, including those of his old friends Crabbe and Goyle, held some sort of job. Even if they were mere waitresses at restaurants or maids at inns like the Leakey Cauldron, at least they worked in some way to support their families, instead of living solely off their husbands' incomes and spending money just because they had it, as was Narcissa's way of life.

Walking down the stairs toward the nearest fireplace so that he could Floo, Draco spotted the many pictures of himself and his parents on the wall. The most recent of the pictures was the one that caught his eye the most. It was the family portrait that had been painted of the three of them a few days after Draco's eleventh birthday. The boy in that picture, clad in a forest green cloak, was smiling happily and waving at the world in front of him. The boy in that picture was one from a history that could never be repeated again. He was a boy who had been truly loved and adored by his family, held in the highest esteem. He was a boy who had everything going for him.

But, at the same time, that boy was a boy with no heart, a boy who mocked each and everyone who did not meet his standards. He was an ignorant, selfish, spoiled boy, evil down to the very core of his soul. That boy was full of hatred and had no real understanding of life or other people.

He was simpering at Draco mischievously, triumphantly. His gray eyes were glowing with a wicked satisfaction. _This is your life, _he was saying, _this is your life. Don't you like it? Didn't I do a wonderful job Aren't you happy now? _

Draco wanted to punch the boy with all his might. That boy was the reason why Draco's life was now so horrible, why he was now living a life of shame, why no one wanted or cared for him. It was all because of that boy. That boy in the green cloak had made _everything_ the way it was today.

If only Draco could have stopped the boy from his wicked ways, his life would have been happy and normal now….

Anger swelled up even higher inside of him at the mere look at the boy's smile, his devilish, terrorizing, evil smile. Finally, tearing his eyes from the picture, Draco ran down the stairs. But, the boy would not stop his taunting from there. He began cackling a horrible, mirthless laugh that drove Draco into madness until—

_Smack! _Draco had collided with the looping banister, his head pounding like a drum. It felt as though a rock had hit it. He could only imagine the bruise that was forming. Grabbing the banister to steady himself, Draco slowly stood up straight, his stomach tight and loaded with worry, hoping that his mother had not heard what had happened, but afraid that she had.

_If she comes over here, I'm dead. _

He waited, one hand pressed up against his forehead where the banister had collided with it, and listened to know if the sound of his mother's footsteps was anywhere near.

After awhile, he decided that she had heard nothing, as she had not come to the staircase. Slowly and carefully, Draco proceeded to walk down the stairs.

Once he reached the bottom, his nerves began to spasm. What if his mother caught him as she walked around the corner?

Looking behind his shoulder, Draco watched for his mother. She was nowhere in sight, but he did not want to take any chances. He did the only thing he could think doing to get it over with.

He ran to the fireplace.

By the time his mother had heard him, he would be gone already. He was sure of it. He hastily grabbed a handful of Floo powder from a jar next to the poker and said, as clearly as possible, "The Ministry of Magic, London!"

With a whirly, twirly sensation, a feeling that made him very nauseous to say the least, Draco soon found himself being jettisoned out of the fireplace and onto the floor of one of the offices at the Ministry. Unfortunately for Draco, it was not an empty office.

"What are you doing here, kid?" A pudgy wizard with a square jaw was the first thing that came into Draco's view.

Speedily, Draco stood up and brushed the soot off his robes, looking for an explanation, one that wouldn't seem too foolish.

"I-I needed to see my father." It was the first logical explanation that he could think of. He just hoped he wouldn't _really _have to see his father.

"Your father?" The pudgy man echoed, eyeing Draco suspiciously.

"Yeah." Draco felt his cheeks flushing as he tried to think of something else convenient to say. "He-he told me to use this office when I Flooed. He's…just down the hallway."

The man didn't seem too suspicious with this answer, so he let it fly.

"Alright," the man replied with a "shooing" gestured of his hand that told Draco he had permission to leave the office and go about his business.

"Thank you, sir," Draco said kindly before bolting out the door, trying not to cause injury to any passer-bys who might be walking by the door as it flung open.

And as it turns out, there were a lot of those. Draco had been to the Ministry several times with his father, but he could never remember it being this crowded. Witches and wizards of all shapes and sizes were running in and out of offices, sending messages and going from one conference to another. Draco just hoped that he did not run into his father.

Rounding the corner, Draco noticed the reception desk for this particular floor. He sighed with relief when he noticed a sign that said, "Floor 9". His father worked on Floor 3, so there was no way Draco could possibly run into him. There went one burden.

Now, it was time to be rid of another. Draco slowly approached the witch at the reception desk. She was a large woman with short curly blonde hair, bright pink lipstick, and green eye shadow that reached her eyebrows. Her ensemble was complete with a pair of birdlike false eyelashes; she was just about the ugliest woman Draco had ever seen. It was hard to look at her without snickering.

"Can I help you?" The witch asked, raising a thick eyebrow.

"Y-yes," Draco began to stutter, but it was not from laughter. "I'm looking for Sirius Black. Is he in today?"

Hopefully, even if Sirius didn't work on this floor, at least the woman would know where to find him. It was a standard, Draco knew from earlier times here, for each reception desk to have information concerning each floor, just to be prepared for cases like these, in which the informant was lost and needed direction.

But, the fat woman was more suspicious of Draco than she was concerned about giving him information.

"Aren't you supposed to be in school, young man?" The woman asked with an odd look in her eye.

"Y-yes," Draco was so sick of stuttering by now. He wished the words would just spill out of his mouth. "I am, ma'am, b-but, I was expelled…." He just knew he would get an odd reaction from that answer. But, it was the truth. He had already lied once today, and that was enough.

The woman looked even more suspicious at this. "Expelled? Hmm…." She clicked her long nails together. Her nail polish was candy apple red, much like the color Narcissa wore. "Why exactly were you expelled?"

"Excuse me?" Draco asked her incredulously. This woman was way too nosy. She reminded him of a fat Rita Skeeter. "That's none of your business!" He was very angry now and in no mood to deal with this woman's foolishness.

"I need to talked to Sirius!" Draco pleaded, his stomach tied in knots. "Please tell me where he is."

"Are you a relative?" The woman asked, still with a suspicious glint in her eye.

Draco felt like smacking her across the face. He didn't have time for all her questions. He needed to see Sirius now!

"Yes," he responded. He could hear the rising impatience in his voice. "I'm his cousin. Actually, my mother's his first cousin, so I'm like his second cousin or something like that, I'm not sure really. Just please let me talk to him!"

The witch glared for a couple of moments as Draco heard the clock inside his head tick back and forth. After a moment, she went searching through a huge leather logbook sitting next to her.

"His office is room 230," she said after flipping about forty pages, "and it's on the fourth floor—"

Before the witch could get out another word, Draco had flown down the hallway and to the nearest staircase, glad to be rid of such a woman like her.

Running as fast as he could, dodging the throngs of people that were going every which way, Draco was soon out of breath and panting. But, that didn't stop him from reaching his destination.

Within five minutes, he was standing outside Room 230, praying that Sirius would be inside, but at the same time, hoping that he wouldn't be.

&&&&

Dora had never in her life seen Sirius this stressed. She had decided earlier to stop her "vow of silence" after having realized that she was the one being mean and unfair to him, not the other way around. She had been putting him under much more stress than he needed. He was certainly a wreck if there ever was one.

He had never looked so terrible in his life. His hair was greasy and unkempt, his face pale and gaunt. Large bags were under his eyes from lack of sleep. It was a miracle that he had even shaved that morning.

"I'm sorry for complaining so much," Dora told him, trying to get at least one problem off his shoulders. She put her hand on his shoulder to show that she was indeed sincere. She could feel the bones of his shoulders.

He was silent for a few moments, looking through a stack of papers on his desk that had to do with the various cases he was in charge of solving, including the kidnapping of that little girl, who, oddly enough, had lived down the street from Dora and her parents.

"I forgive you," he replied hoarsely, not looking at her. "And I'm sorry, too. I haven't been a very good mentor lately, or a good cousin, for that matter."

Dora was shocked at this statement. Sirius was the best cousin she had ever had, and he was a wonderful mentor. He had certainly taught her more than half her teachers at Hogwarts ever had, in any subject.

"What do you mean?" She asked, as perplexed as ever. "You're a wonderful mentor, and cousin. You've given me more encouragement than any teacher has. Except Professor Lupin, of course. He always thought I would amount to so much. You're just concerned for Harry, as I would be, too."

It was the truth. If Harry were her son and in the condition that he was in now, she would have been blowing everyone else off, too.

"I know." Sirius finally turned around to look at her. It seemed as though he were about to fall asleep on the spot, a pitiful thing to watch. Everything about this situation was so sad.

She wished she could go back in time and push _Draco _down the stairs. After all, this whole mess was his fault….

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door that brought Dora out from her moment of hate.

"I'll get it," she said, not wanting to make Sirius get up.

&&&&

As he watched the doorknob turn, Draco could feel his stomach turning like milk being churned into butter. What would Sirius say to Draco being at his office door, alone, with a backpack on his back? Only the worst thoughts could fill Draco's mind.

The door opened, and Draco found himself standing face to face with his punk rocker cousin, and today had to be one of her worst days. Worst because Draco, along with the rest of his family, including the Tonkses, hated to see Dora dressed like that, and this was the most he had seen her out do herself yet. Her hair was long and bright orange, tied back in a bun with a few short strands of hair falling into her face. She was wearing black boots with striped purple stockings that could be easily seen under the short robe she was wearing, and wristbands on her arms from every Wizarding rock group there was. A unicorn tattoo was clearly visible on her forearm. She had four piercings in each of her ears, and one in her nose. The latter Draco wished desperately that she would take off. Her eye shadow was a bright blue and her lipstick was a shade slightly darker than burgundy.

But as strange as Dora looked, Draco had to agree with himself that she did not look anywhere _near _as unappealing as the witch at the reception desk. _No_, he thought to himself, _not in a million years._

Her blue eyes widened in shock and disbelief at the sight of him, but in all seriousness, Draco's eyes were doing the same thing at the sight of her.

"H-hi Dora," Draco said uncertainly, mentally scolding himself for his continued stuttering. "May I speak with Sirius, please?"

"_Draco_?" Dora's voice showed just as much disbelief as her eyes did. "What are you doing here?"

"Yes, Draco…" a stern, ominous voice came out from behind the door. "What _are_ you doing here?"

Before Draco could run, Sirius Black was standing in front of him. Obviously sensing the tension that was about to be built, Dora ran back into the office. Sirius closed the door behind her.

He looked worse than Draco had ever seen him. Could stress really do that much to a person?

But, even as bad as he looked, Sirius' handsomeness still shown loud and clear. Draco had often heard his father talk of Sirius and how, with his "traitorous blood", he did not deserve to look as good as he did. Yet, Draco felt that his father was just being jealous, which he had the right to be. No one Draco had ever seen came even a smidgen close to outshining Sirius when it came to good looks, not even the most famous of male models, nor Gilderoy Lockhart, nor Gellert Grindelwald.

"I-I came to apologize on my own terms," Draco responded, making sure to look Sirius straight in the eye. "I-I'm sorry…." Those were the only two words that had the courage to come out at the moment.

Sirius seemed unmoved. He stared at Draco, not believing a word that issued from the boy's mouth.

"How is Harry?" the boy finally asked, noticing that his voice was shaking and hoping that this would somehow prompt Sirius to talk to him before the man had it in mind to slam the door in Draco's face. "Is he all right? How bad is he hurt?"

The neither the ominous look in Sirius' eyes nor the sternness of his voice had left when he respond.

"Mentally, he is fine, thankfully. He remembers everything that happened before he was hurt, and he can talk. But, physically, he is not doing well at all."

Draco felt absolutely horrible. His stomach had just turned into a load of bricks. He was so ashamed of himself. How could he have done something like this?

"May I see him, please?" Draco had wanted to make this the best apology he had ever given anyone, and to apologize to Harry's face would be the best apology possible.

But, Sirius was not at all ready to make amends with his young cousin.

"I have work to do, Draco. I'm already very behind and I don't have time for your shenanigans." He opened the door to go back inside when Draco began shouting.

"But, Sirius! I'm telling the truth!" Tears were now forming in Draco's eyes. He grabbed Sirius' Auror robes tightly, not wanting to let go until the man listened to him.

"Stop it, Draco!" Sirius' voice was almost fierce. "Before people start coming out here and arrest me for child abuse. Go!"

He grabbed Draco's hands and tore them off his robes. "GO! I do not want you around here! Get out of my sight!"

Draco started crying wildly. He knew it was childish, but he couldn't help it. He had to do something to get his point across. Finally, not being able to take the pressure anymore, Sirius grabbed Draco and threw him inside the office.

"SHUT UP!" Sirius grabbed the boy's hands, forcing Draco to look him in the eye. Sirius' own eyes were bloodshot. "I want you to leave this instant!"

Draco stopped crying at Sirius' last words. Clearly, it wasn't helping Sirius see anything, but instead, making him even angrier than he was upon seeing Draco.

"Alright." Draco wiped off his tears and stood up straight. "I'll get out of your sight, but first I need to speak with Dora."

"For what?" Dora asked, a puzzled look on her face. She was sitting in a small armchair near Sirius' desk.

Draco took a deep breath. "I need to speak with your parents. I-I want to know if I could spend some time at your house."

"What?" Dora walked straight over to Draco and stared incredulously down at him, much like she had before, but this time with a much more bewildered look. "Why would you want to stay at my house? You're parents hate mine. If they found out you were there, they'd kill you."

"That's the point," said Draco. "My parents are the reason I want to go somewhere else. They're absolutely horrible to me. My father hits me and makes me do all these hard chores, and my mother ignores me all the time. I don't even think they acknowledge me as their son anymore."

And that was the cold hard truth if there ever was any. Draco's parents were ruthless to him and did not treat him as they once treated the boy in the forest green cloak. To them, he was no longer their son, as the boy in forest green had been. He was just an object, an object with the sole purpose of messing up their lives.

Dora obviously felt pity for Draco, because she reached down and hugged him. "Sure," she said, patting him on the back. "I'll ask my parents if you can stay with us. I'm sure they'll say 'yes'."

And that's exactly what Draco needed: someone who would give a big strong "yes" to his existence.

**End Note: **There's chapter nineteen! If you could have already guessed, in the next chapter, Dora brings home Draco and her family's reaction is revealed, and Wood puts one of the Weasleys' sick pills in Flint's drink.

Joyeux Noël! (Ten bucks to the first person who can figure out what that means).

Amélie


	20. Whoops and Welcome

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Twenty: Whoops and Welcome

It was six-thirty when the students filed into the Great Hall for dinner. Everyone was relieved to be able to relax and chat after such a long, hard day.

Apart from Defense Against the Dark Arts class, the Gryffindor students had been given an overwhelmingly large amount of homework: ten long, thorough questions from their books for Transfiguration, an essay on the properties of monk's foot for Potions, and the assignment to practice various spells for Charms for their quiz tomorrow.

Ron, of course, was the only one who had not even started his homework by the time dinner began. He always made it a practice to do his assignments thirty seconds before the bell rang at the start of each class. Hermione, of course, never approved.

"You realize that if you procrastinate, you'll never get anywhere in life," she always said, rolling her eyes at him in frustration.

He always ignored her. Of course, when the time came for him to be _serious _about things, he would not procrastinate.

Luckily, there was nothing serious about this moment in time. Across the table from Ron, Seamus was (again) doodling on the parchment that was to be used for his potions essay (so, apparently, Ron wasn't the _only _one procrastinating). Dean, having finished his homework, was reading one of the ten dozen Muggle comic books that he had stuffed in his trunk, and Neville had lifted his eyes from his Transfiguration questions to search the Ravenclaw table, no doubt seeking out Cho to see how her rose was doing. Parvati and Lavender were both practicing their charms on their plates of food, trying to make their broccoli and peas disappear so that they would have an excuse not to eat them. Unfortunately, it was almost as if they had gotten the spell mixed up with another because instead of disappearing, the vegetables exploded.

But, what caught Ron's attention the most was what was going on about four people down from him. Fred and George were crouched around Percy, who had his head down on the table, and Oliver Wood, who had an eager look on his face. Fred had a tiny blue bottle in his hands and was pointing to it with an air of a salesman.

"Excuse me?" Ron got up from his seat and walked up behind Sarah Margaret Yarborough, a pretty blonde third year sitting two seats down from him. "May I sit here, please?"

She turned her attention abruptly from her food and looked at him with a puzzled look on her face. "What? What's wrong with where you were just sitting at?"

"It's too cold over there for me," he said quickly. "Could we change seats, please?"

Sarah Margaret grunted. "Whatever," she said and picked up her plate to go fill Ron's empty spot.

Now was his chance to figure out whatever it was Fred and George were talking about, and from looking at the way Percy was acting, it couldn't have been anything good. Then, again, that was to be expected with Fred and George.

"All you have to do is put one drop of this in his drink—" Fred was saying.

"And then it's like—bam—instant puke!" George finished the sentence for his twin.

Percy groaned, his head still on the table.

"Awesome," said Wood, his eyes bright. He took the bottle from Fred's hands before the older Weasley twin even had a chance to offer it to him. "Now I just have to wait for him to leave and distract the rest of the Slytherins so that I can slip it in his drink."

He turned his eyes over to the Slytherin table. Ron followed his gaze and could see Marcus Flint sitting with his back toward the rest of the Gryffindors. Wood tapped his fingers impatiently on the table. Suddenly, his eyes glanced back at the Gryffindor table and he noticed Ron sitting near him. The look on his face made Ron's stomach turn.

"Hey, Ron, go make Flint move," the Gryffindor Quidditch captain ordered.

Ron knew that was coming. "Why me?" he asked. "I've never even met him in my life."

Wood rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah. That's the point. He'll get suspicious if someone he knows walks over there and asks him to move."

Somehow, even after thinking for a few moments, Ron didn't see how that made any sense at all. It seemed to him as though it would be the other way around. Besides, even though Ron didn't actually know Flint, he had heard enough about him and had seen some of his actions to know that he wasn't one to mess with. If Ron said one word that might offend him, he feared that he might find his head in a toilet later that night.

"I don't think that's a good thing for me to do," Ron replied hesitantly.

"Come on, Ron," George encouraged with one of his wide, mischevious smiles. "If anything happens, we'll bash him for you."

Ron let out a deep breath, knowing deep down inside that no matter what would happen, he was still going to regret this. He wished Sarah Margaret were sitting back over here. _She_ would have been good bait for distracting Flint.

Nevertheless, Ron rose from his seat and trudged over toward the Slytherins. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason, he felt like everyone was staring at him as he walked, as though it were a crime for a Gryffindor to approach the Slytherin table.

Then again, it probably was.

Before he knew it, Ron was standing behind Marcus Flint with a stupid grin on his face, trying to decide what to say. Everyone around Flint noticed him standing there and stopped their conversations to find out what he wanted, which made it even harder for him to think of a distraction.

"What do _you _want, Weasley?" Pansy Parkinson was sitting across from Flint, staring at Ron suspiciously; but, that was simply what Pansy did every time she saw Ron, even if he were doing something as innocent as walking into Potions class five minutes late, something he did every day. So, he chose to ignore her and turned to Flint straight away.

"Hey…Marcus…?" Ron wasn't sure to call him by his first name or not.

"Yeah?" Flint replied in annoyance, clearly wanting to return to his dinner and not be bothered by a Gryffindor.

"There's…uh…this Hufflepuff girl and she really likes you…and uh…." Then, Ron's brain began streaming with thoughts and ideas. "She wants to talk to you." He paused to see if Flint took any of the bait.

"A girl?" Flint asked, his crooked yellow teeth showing unattractively. "Why doesn't she just come over here herself and talk to me?"

_Good question, _Ron thought. _He's not as dumb as everyone says he is. _He had to think of a way to respond to that. "She…uh…she's really shy and she wanted to meet you in private…she's…uh…." Ron wracked his brain for something else. "…Outside the…Astronomy Tower…."

Now that was certainly a long walk that Flint would have to make, giving Wood more than enough time to sabotage the drink.

Flint looked at the rest of the Slytherins around him. Some, like Pansy, kept their eyes on Ron, but others were actually gullible enough to encourage Flint to go out and meet this girl.

Well, apparently, Flint did have a bit of stupidity in him, because he took the advice of his more gullible peers and left the Hall within a flash. Now, Ron had the even harder task of distracting the rest of the Slytherins.

"Did you guys know there's a full moon tonight?" He asked, saying the first question that popped into his mind.

"Yeah," Blaise Zabini, a wealthy black boy in Ron's year, said nonchalantly. "So what?"

Noticing Wood approaching out of the corner of his eye, Ron decided to do the unthinkable and plopped himself down in the spot where Flint had just been sitting. He placed his elbows on the table, moving Flint's glass out of sight so that Wood could have his chance.

"I heard that today the moon's going to turn purple," Ron responded to Zabini's question, trying to sound dramatic.

"So?" said Pansy with a look on her ugly face that told Ron she thought he was the dumbest person in the world. "That's called an _eclipse_, and it's actually quite common."

Wood whistled casually and twiddled his fingers, trying to seem absentminded. Ron raised up his hand to prevent any of the Slytherins from noticing Wood drizzling the yellow liquid into Flint's goblet.

Abruptly, though, Wood knocked Ron's shoulder.

"Sorry," he muttered with a grin on his face. "I was just passing by."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, thanks for the lecture, Parkinson. I had no idea what an eclipse was."

Getting up from Flint's spot, he strolled casually back around to the Gryffindor table. Wood did a loop around the Hufflepuff table and went back to his seat.

"Now all we have to do is wait for Flint to come back," said Wood slyly.

Ron didn't know what to say. All he could think about was what Flint's reaction would be as soon as he walked back into the Great Hall after finding out that there was no girl wanting to speak with him.

"You're going to get in so much trouble if he finds out it was you, Oliver." Percy, who had kept his head down on the table this entire time, finally looked up to scowl at his friend.

"_If _he finds out," Wood said matter-of-factly.

And that was the truth, Ron thought. The chances of Flint actually finding out that Wood had made him sick were very slim, especially at this time of year when people were barfing right and left.

"It'll be fine," said George proudly.

"Because nothing we do ever goes wrong," finished Fred.

Two minutes later, the door to the Great Hall opened.

"Boy, that was fast," remarked Wood, turning around eagerly so that he could see Flint striding unhappily back to his seat.

But, it wasn't Flint coming in from the door. Actually, it wasn't all that surprising for Ron, who knew that the probability of Flint coming back from the Astronomy Tower that quickly was very slim, unless he had supersonic speed.

Instead, it was Vincent Crabbe who made his way over to the Slytherin table and sat down in Flint's vacant seat.

Wood gasped in horror. His eyes rose to the size of teacup saucers and his face blanched as white as the House Ghosts.

Crabbe, not smart enough to realize that he had sat down in the wrong seat, finished off Flint's drink in one quick swig. No sooner had he done so that he vomited green slime across the table and right onto Pansy Parkinson's robes. The entire Slytherin table screamed in shock. Ron, however, burst out laughing.

Wood buried his face in his hands in embarrassment.

"Well," said Fred, sounding satisfied. "At least we got one Slytherin."

&&&&

Draco felt as though he were about to explode. He didn't know how long he could take sitting in Sirius' office, just waiting for someone to find him and haul him back to his parents' home. He imagined his father contacting the WCPS (Wizarding Child Protection Services) and having them issue a lock down of the whole country. He probably would even be calling the Aurors for assistance, except Sirius, whom Lucius wouldn't trust with handling Draco if he were the last relative Draco had on the planet.

But, that was what puzzled Draco so much. If his parents really loved him and would go to all of that trouble to find him, then why did they insist on treating him so harshly? He concluded that they must have been pretending to care about him just for looks. After all, what kind of reputation would they have if their son went missing and they _didn't _go looking for him?

Dora opened the door as if on cue and announced exactly what Draco had been thinking. "Your father's got everyone looking for you," she whispered, closing the door behind her. "Sirius, obviously, has to help or else Fudge'll fire him. But, don't worry." She gave him a warm smile. "I'll take you to my house."

She stretched out her arm, and Draco took her offered hand. Her nails were coated in sparkling black nail polish. He stood up to stand in front of her.

"Okay," she said. Her voice was mixed with what sounded like panic and hesitation, which did not make Draco feel happy. Dora took out her wand from her pocket and pointed it in Draco's direction. "I'm going to have to make you invisible. Now," she looked at him apologetically, which made Draco feel nervous about what Dora was going to do next. She was so clumsy, and if she messed up a spell, he had no idea what would happen. "I'm going to try to cast a spell that makes you invisible. I could change your physical appearance, but then everybody would see you and ask why a boy your age is not in school. Besides, I'm really not good with Transfiguration spells, anyway."

Draco just hoped she was good at whatever invisibility spell she had in mind. He closed his eyes, waiting for it to be over. "Go ahead and do it," he said. _Just get it over with._

"O-okay." Draco could imagine Dora shutting her own eyes. "_Klar_!"

It felt as though someone had thrust a brick at his chest. All the wind, it seemed, had been knocked out of him.

"Yay!" Well, that had to be a good sign. Draco opened his eyes and noticed his cousin jumping for joy, as though this were the only spell that she had ever done correctly. "You're invisible!"

Draco looked down. All he could see was the floor he was standing on. His body was completely gone.

"There." Dora sounded proud of herself, which made Draco even more suspicious as to whether or not she had performed this spell before. "Now, the only problem I'll have is finding you."

Dora put her hand on the door to open it, when she turned around and looked in Draco's general direction. "Oh, and we're gonna have to take the Knight Bus home because Dad just left and I'm not allowed to use the Floo Network without adult supervision." She paused, thinking this over, and then continued. "Well, supervision by adults _older _than I am, since I'm already an adult. Just don't ask why."

That wasn't something Draco had to worry about doing. In all seriousness, he had no desire at all to know what kind of catastrophe his cousin might have caused from Flooing.

Dora opened the door wide and stepped out, glancing around to see if anyone was coming. Like that would matter, as Draco was already invisible. Then again, someone could bump into him, and that wouldn't be any good.

"Okay. Coast is clear," she told him affirmatively with a wave of her hand, gesturing him to come out.

But, predictably, right as he was about to cross the threshold, Dora tried shutting the door in his face.

"Dora!" he said, massaging his forehead. "That hurt."

"Sorry, Draco," she squealed, her eyes wide in panic. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I guess that's one of the problems with being invisible. People can't see where you are."

Draco's mouth fell open at the stupidity of this statement. _Of course people can't see where you are, _he thought. _That's the whole point of being invisible._

To keep Dora from doing anything so thoughtless again, Draco latched onto the sleeve of her robes.

They passed the floor's reception desk, this one occupied by a bald man with glasses, and headed on toward the staircase leading to the ground floor, where people were bustling and hurrying to leave for the night.

_Figures, _Draco thought.

He tightened his grip on Dora's sleeve. She stopped and waited for the majority of the people to clear out before she got anywhere near the door.

Finally, the floor was clear enough for them to move. A strong wave of cold air slammed into Draco's face as his cousin opened the door. The ground was covered in snow and the sky was pitch black. He immediately scolded himself for not packing some of his warmer clothes. How stupid of him.

He glanced up at Dora. He could barely see her in the dark, but her teeth were chattering loudly. It was obvious that she had not thought to dress for winter, either.

They walked along the icy sidewalk to a crosswalk, through which loads of Muggle cars were driving. Dora quickly flung out her arm, careful to do it when no cars were coming.

With a loud bang that almost knocked Draco off his feet, the road cleared and a large purple triple-decker bus with blinding headlights and huge wheels appeared where all the Muggle cars had been before. A tall, brown-haired man in a purple suit came out to greet Dora.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard and convenient transport for all of witches and wizards who feel like taking—"

"Long bus rides," Dora finished in a huff, her breath showing with every word. "Yeah, I've been on this bus loads of times. I need to hurry. I'm freezing my butt off out here."

Wasn't _that_ the truth? Draco felt as though his whole body was turning into an icicle. His hands were going so numb that he could barely hold onto Dora's sleeve any longer.

"Alright," the man said, annoyed. "Just trying to do my job."

Dora moved out of the way so that Draco could get on the bus first. If he were to get on last, chances were that the driver might slam the door on him like Dora had.

The inside of the bus had no seats, but instead six brass beds, each with candles burning in brackets beside them, which gave the bus a blissful warmth. Draco looked behind him. Dora was right behind. In fact, she was so close to him that they almost ran into each other.

"How about this bed?" She whispered to him, pointing to the bed across from her.

"Sure," Draco replied quietly, taking a seat at the head of the bed. There were only three other passengers on the bus, as it was still rather early in the evening, but who knew how many other people could arrive. There needed to be as much room for everyone as possible.

Dora cautiously sat down on the edge, not sure as to where Draco might be.

"Where to?" The brown-haired conductor asked Dora kindly.

"To one ninety-seven Bramwell Drive," Dora replied. Thinking quickly, she added, "That's in Yate."

"Yate, uh-huh," the conductor said in confirmation. "Ya hear that, Ernie?" He addressed the tiny white haired driver of the bus. The old man's glasses were so large on his tiny body that they made him look like a fly.

"Yep," Ernie responded. "Yate."

Without any warning, he punched the gas pedal and the bus went racing off into the night. Draco held tightly onto the bedpost while Dora screamed and fell off the bed and flat onto her face.

"Do you think it's possible for you to go any slower?" Her bun was coming undone and her lipstick had smeared across her cheek. "I mean, _before_ I break my nose?"

Unfortunately, Ernie paid no attention to her and continued to go at the same speed, which Draco guessed had to be around ninety to one hundred miles an hour.

Dora remained on the floor for the remainder of the journey.

Finally, the bus stopped and Draco looked out the window, noticing that they were on a road aligned with little snow-covered houses and lawns.

"One ninety-seven Bramwell Drive," Ernie bellowed as he flicked opened the bus's double doors.

"Thanks." Dora's tone was grouchy and an unhappy expression was plainly written on her face.

"That'll be ten sickles," the conductor said.

Dora grunted and shoved a handful of money from her red purse into his hands. Draco quickly followed her as she made her way out the door. He alighted out the door just as Ernie was about to close it.

"That's the last time I _ever _get on that bus at night," she said irritably after the bus had vanished from sight.

She led Draco up the snowy path that led to her house. Upon seeing it closer, Draco realized that it was made of brick and had a stucco roof; it was a relatively new house, maybe only a few decades old. It was almost a complete contrast to Draco's own home, which was centuries old, made of stone, and consisted of five stories, while this house consisted of no more than two.

"Oh." Dora turned around in search of Draco. "I guess I can try to make you visible again. Where are you?"

"Right here," Draco said as he placed one hand on her arm, which was now covered in snow.

"Ok." She hesitantly pointed her wand at him.

Draco covered his eyes, wishing that she would just get it over with. It was far too cold out here to dilly-dally.

"_Opaqus_!" He heard her shout.

He opened his eyes quickly and breathed a sigh of relief as he noticed that his body was visible again.

"Good," he said. "Now, we can go inside, right?"

"Right," Dora responded happily, again looking pleased with her work.

As she reached the wooden door, Dora pulled out a brass key and placed it in the lock. A loud creak ensued as the door was forced open. Draco had never heard such a sound in his life.

Nor had he seen such a welcoming home.

Warm air rushed to greet both of them as they walked passed the threshold. The sent of roast duck and potatoes filled Draco's nostrils. He could see a couch and cushioned chairs in the living room from the foyer. Pictures of Dora and her parents aligned the walls.

"Mum? Dad?" Dora hollered.

At that instant, all the comfort flooded from Draco's body and was replaced by fear and sweaty palms. What if Dora's parents didn't accept him? Would he be forced to go back and live with his parents? Fearing that this might be the case, he hid himself behind Dora's tall form.

"Draco!" She hissed.

"Sh!" He retorted.

"Hi, sweetie!" A woman who could only be Dora's mother, Andromeda, walked over and kissed her daughter on the cheek. The sent of the hospital was still present on her.

"Hey, Mum…" By the tone of Dora's voice, Draco could tell that she was just as nervous about the situation as he was. "Uh, would it be okay with you and Dad if someone stayed with us…for a little while?"

It was a very abrupt question for a daughter to ask her mother upon coming home from a job.

"Who?" Andromeda asked, puzzled and clearly thinking that the subject was rather awkward for the moment.

With that, Dora moved aside, revealing Draco, who knew that he had to be looking quite stupid by now. A beautiful woman with long brown hair and the same blue eyes as Narcissa stood in front of him.

"Draco?" She asked in a shocked voice, her face just as pale as Draco imagined his was. "Ted! Ted! Come here!"

With a creak overhead, a tall man with a round belly and blond hair came running down the stairs, expecting to find something amiss.

He halted as he entered the foyer and stared down at Draco with just as much shock as his wife did. "Draco?! What are you doing here?"

He stepped forwarding, completing the circle that was the Tonkses and a Malfoy. Draco gulped, afraid that his uncle might clobber him at any second.

"Do you mind if I stay with you?" The words came out in a rush, much more so than he had intended.

"Excuse me?" Ted asked incredulously. "Draco, you realize that the whole country is looking for you, don't you?"

"Yes, sir." Draco hesitated, trying to think of what else to say next. "But, my parents are horrible to me. They're not looking for me because they love me; they're doing it so that people don't think they killed me or something. Can I please stay with you?"

"Please, Dad?" Dora begged, showing off her puppy-dog eyes. "He's really sorry about what he did to Harry. Can you just give him a chance?"

Ted was silent for a few moments. Andromeda was looking at Draco with a sad, pitiful expression on her face.

"We can hide him until they stop looking for him," said Dora pleadingly. "It won't be that hard. I mean, I made him invisible on the way over here. Besides, he really doesn't deserve to live with a family like that."

The grandfather clock near the kitchen door and the crackling of the fire in the living room were the only sources of noise for about two minutes.

"Alright," Ted finally agreed. "You can stay with us, but if they find you here, we'll all be in big trouble."

"Don't worry, Dad." Dora promised. "I'll take good care of him."

"But, wait." Andromeda finally piped up. "Where will he go during the day? We're all working."

Dora already had an answer for that. "Like I said, Mum. I already made him invisible today. I can do it more."

"Okay, then." Andromeda smiled. "He can stay."

It was the most blissful moment of Draco's life. Finally, he had a family that truly loved him.

**End Note: **Woo! This was by far the longest chapter I've ever posted. I hope everybody liked it. Did I do a good job with mixing description and dialogue? I think that's my biggest problem. Harry and Sirius will be in the next chapter, discussing Jana. Stay tuned and please remember to review.

Merci,

Amélie


	21. In the Long Run

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Twenty-One: In the Long Run

Draco yawned as he lay down onto his new bed. The pillows were downy soft, and the mattress was flexible and absent of the rough springs that a lot of mattresses had. It was the quilt that he had a bit of a problem with.

Purple flowers.

What kind of boy would sleep under a blanket with _purple flowers _on it? Ted had asked the same question upon seeing Andromeda lay the blanket across the guest bed where Draco was going to be sleeping, but it was the only spare blanket that she could find. Well, spare _winter _blanket, that is. There plenty of light summer sheets that Draco could have slept in, but Andromeda didn't think that they locked in enough warmth for a snowy night like this one.

"You'll catch pneumonia," she had said, explaining to Draco why the sheets would not be best. "Or at least a very bad cold in weather like this."

With that explanation, Draco was forced to get through his embarrassment by sleeping underneath the girliest blanket he had ever seen in his life.

_At least no one at school is able to see me, _Draco thought as he huddled under the blanket and stared at the large wooden dresser across from the bed.

The room was not particularly large, at least not nearly as large as Draco's room at his parents' house. There was only a closet, a dresser (and a very small one at that), a bed, and a window without curtains, which was casting so much moonlight through the room that Draco could not bare to look at it and had to face the other direction.

A streak of moonlight caused a line to form across the front of the dresser. Draco, unable to sleep, reached out his hand from under the absurd blanket and began tracing the line with his finger, all the while thinking of what would happen from here on out.

Would he ever be able to apologize to Harry? Would Sirius ever _allow _him to go anywhere near Harry to apologize? Would his parents ever accept him as their son again? How was Dobby fairing in a house run by cruelty and hatred?

Draco's eyes widened at this last thought. What if Lucius beat Dobby while trying to get information on where Draco was? A pang of guilt jabbed through Draco's gut like a dagger.

Everything was his fault. He understood that the boy in forest green was indeed himself. That mischievous, evil smile was his smile. The boy who had judged everyone, the boy who had decided to push Harry Potter down the stares, was himself and no one else.

Was there a way that he could make it better? Draco rolled over on his back and stared at the dark ceiling._ I'm such an idiot. _

Suddenly, a faint _thump _pulled Draco from his thoughts.

Again, for the second time that night, fear flooded through his veins and his palms began to sweat. What if the Aurors had suspected the Tonkses and were here to arrest them and take Draco back?

Draco pictured his aunt and uncle being led away and being sentenced to life in Azkaban for "child abduction", as Draco was sure that was what his parents would have called it. But, he couldn't let them get in trouble. He had wanted to hide in their house. They had not stolen him from anywhere, but had rather chosen to shelter him from a life of hatred.

Draco would have to turn himself in. He could not risk the safety of the only family that truly cared for him.

Slowly getting out of bed, he walked toward the door, wondering why he had not heard any shouting or had seen anyone coming in and grabbing him from his bed to take him back to his parents.

Opening the door, Draco peaked his head out and looked down the long hallway. There was no one around. Only one light appeared to be on, it was coming from Dora's room.

Draco crossed the threshold from his room to the hallway and made his way over to Dora's room in a matter of seconds. The door to her room was ajar, allowing only a tiny slit of light to come through, although it looked like a lot more from far away.

He gently pushed open the door and found Dora, now with spiky purple hair, trying to put all the covers back onto her bed.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing was wrong after all.

It took Dora a moment to realize that Draco was standing there.

"Oh, hi Draco." She smiled, throwing the largest blanket on the bed and attempting to straighten it out. "What's going on? Do you need something?"

"No," he replied. "I just thought I heard a thump and came to see what it was."

"Oh…" Dora laughed and gestured toward her nightstand. "That was my lamp. I had just finished reading and was putting my book back on my nightstand when I accidentally pushed my lamp off and it landed on the floor. Luckily, the floor's carpet, so the lamp didn't break."

"Oh." Draco nodded and chuckled a bit. Of course Dora would be the one to cause a riot.

Then, almost out of nowhere, as though it had Apparated into Draco's brain, a question formed in Draco's mind and he became more serious.

"Hey, Dora…" he said hesitantly, his stomach turning.

"Yeah?" Dora was using her wand to take the wrinkles out of the top blanket.

"Is…is Harry okay?" It was a very random question, but Draco had to know. He had never known for sure what had happened to the boy he had pushed down the stairs.

Dora flicked her wand to stop the charm on the blanket and looked at him sadly. It was strange seeing her like this. Draco had never seen her unhappy before, which made him feel even more guilty.

"Well, _mentally_, yeah. But not physically. He can't walk or see."

Draco felt as though he were about to collapse. He had known that he had hurt the other boy, but he did not think it was that bad.

But, of course, it had to be that bad for Sirius to yell at him and give him a cold shoulder. What other reason would there be, besides his being from a prejudice, stuck up family? Actually, that pretty much would send anybody over the edge, but it was beside the point.

"I feel so bad," Draco said, speaking from his heart. He stared at the wooden door panel, waiting for Dora to chew him out.

"Well," she walked closer to him until she was standing right in front of him. "You _should _feel bad. I mean you did cause it. But, then again, everybody makes mistakes. I know. I've made a lot in my life, more than I can ever admit. But, that's the power of forgiveness. I'm sure Harry will forgive you if you just ask him to. Provided of course, that Sirius allows you to see him."

"Yeah." Draco looked at his feet. But, Draco had never known the power of forgiveness. He had never had to ask anyone to forgive him because, before, he had never thought that his actions were wrong.

Abruptly, Draco felt Dora wrap her arms around him.

"It's okay, Draco. Everything will be set right in the long run, that's what my grandfather always says."

"Your grandfather?" Draco asked.

"Yeah. He's a minister."

"Neat," said Draco, really meaning it. He had never known anybody who had a minister in their family.

"Hey, it's near twelve in the morning. I think we should be heading off to bed," Dora said, giving Draco a squeeze.

"Yeah," Draco smiled. "Thanks for the talk."

"No problem," Dora giggled, now back to her normal self. She stretched her arms over her head and let loose a big yawn.

Seeing that made Draco feel awfully tired himself. "Good night." He gave her a quick smile.

She waved at him with one hand, holding the other one over her arm because she was still yawning.

Draco made his way back to his room and lay flat on his bed, exhausted by now. He closed his eyes tightly, the words of Dora's paternal grandfather echoing in his mind.

&&&&

Three hours earlier

The door creaked open as Sirius unlocked it. He sighed in relief that the day was finally over. Having to take part in a search for Draco Malfoy while knowing that the boy was not missing at all was a waste of the valuable time that he could have been spending with Harry.

Besides, all the time that Sirius spent out meant less time for Jana to go to work. Although, sometimes he wished that she wouldn't go.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Sirius told her hastily as soon as he walked into the living room where she and Harry were.

Jana smiled and made a motion with her hand. "That's okay. The secretary before me always works over time anyway. Sometimes I get there and she doesn't leave for thirty more minutes."

Sirius coughed to hide the blush that he knew was on his face. Hopefully, though, if Jana saw it, she would think that it was just from the cold weather.

"Well, thank you, as always, for watching Harry," Sirius said honestly after removing his hand from his mouth.

Looking at Harry sitting on the couch, Sirius could tell that he had had a very good day. He had a smile on his face, something that Sirius rarely saw on him these days, and was tracing Braille letters in the Defense book that Remus had given him.

"Hi Sirius." Harry looked up from the book and smiled in the direction where he thought Sirius might be.

"Hi, Harry." Sirius ran to him and held him tightly.

"I had lots of fun today," said Harry happily. "I learned how to distinguish different foods by smell."

"Huh." Sirius, still holding onto Harry, pondered this for a moment. _Interesting. _He didn't know what else to say, but he knew that it was something normal that blind people did. Because they couldn't see, their other senses were often stronger to make up for their lack of sight.

"And he read to me a bit from his book," Jana said, gesturing to the book Harry had just been reading. "He's progressing very well."

Jana's beautiful eyes darted toward the clock on the wall. "Well, I better go," she said, "Before my boss has a dragon over me."

She reached out to hug Harry, who returned the hug without any protest, something that Sirius had not seen before. Harry really _was _progressing if he now hugged Jana without being forced to have anything to do with her.

"Bye, Harry." She said, giving him a kissed on the cheek. "You're doing very well."

"Thank you," Harry replied cheerfully.

Jana then turned to Sirius and held out her hand for him to shake. Sirius took it and shook slowly.

"I really do enjoy spending time with Harry," she told him. "We're really getting to know each other."

"I'm glad that you two are getting a long," said Sirius.

Jana let loose one of her dazzling smiles and walked toward the fire to Floo back to the Ministry. Sirius watched as she disappeared in a cloud of green smoke. He wished he could tell her how he felt about her, but would that be appropriate? Being as disabled as Harry was, would it be right for Sirius to start dating or carry out any relationship with a woman? And even more, how would Harry approve of Sirius' having a girlfriend?

&&&&

Sirius would later find out the answer to that last question after dinner and before Harry had fallen asleep for the night.

As Sirius was tucking Harry into bed, the boy asked out of nowhere, "Do you like her, Sirius?"

Sirius was a bit confused for a moment. He lay down beside Harry and asked him, "like who?" It was only right after the words had come stupidly out of his mouth that he realized who Harry had meant.

Harry laughed a you-know-who-I'm-talking-about sort of laugh and said, "Jana, of course. Do you like her?"

Sirius did not answer for a moment. It had always been hard admitting his feelings to Harry for some reason.

"Well, do you mean as a friend or as a girlfriend?" Now, that was a nice, smooth answer that didn't quite give anything away, although Sirius knew perfectly well what Harry meant.

"A _girlfriend_," Harry said, his green eyes twinkling for the first time in a long time. Before, that had always been a sure sign of nosiness or mischief on Harry's part.

"I…." He had to be honest. If he weren't, Harry would certainly be able to tell by the tone of his voice that he was lying. "I guess…both. I mean, she's really pretty and sweet. I kind of have mixed feelings about her." Now, that was not a total lie. Sirius _did _have mixed feelings, but they were not about whether or not he had romantic feelings for Jana, but rather about what he should do when it came to having a relationship with her.

"Well," said Harry, pulling the covers up to his chin with one hand and taking Sirius' hand with the other. "I think you should ask her out on a date. I really like her. I think she'd be a good mum."

Sirius felt his eyes about to pop out of his head. "What? A good mum? Where did _that _idea come from?" He felt Harry's forehead for any sign of a fever. "Are you sick?"

"No," retorted Harry, pushing his godfather's hand off his face. "I'm just saying. If you and Jana were going to get married, I just think she'd be a good mum."

_Marriage? _Sirius thought the idea was so out of place. He had not even asked Jana out yet and Harry was talking about marriage!

"I…don't think we should focus on marriage just yet, Harry." Sirius brought his hand up to Harry's forehead and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. "A relationship needs to be strong before it goes anywhere near marriage."

It made since, though, in a lot of ways why Harry would be talking about Sirius getting married. For one thing, he had always wanted a mother figure in his life, but had never gotten one. Well, Andromeda might have qualified, but she was not around nearly enough nor was she married to Sirius.

"I know," Harry responded, a slightly sad expression on his face. "I guess I'm just a little impatient. And I guess a little impulsive, too. I mean, I thought Cho was going to be my girlfriend at first sight, but she wasn't. Maybe I'm just thinking the same about you and Jana."

Sirius' brain instantly filled with confusion. That was a lot Sirius had not known. When had Harry liked a girl?

"You liked a girl?" Sirius finally voiced his thoughts once he was finally able to speak again.

"Yeah." Harry smiled a bit sadly, evidently thinking about everything before it had all happened. "Her name was Cho. Cho Chang. She was a Ravenclaw, but I don't remember what year she was in. She was the Seeker for their Quidditch team and I played against her during my match. She was really nice about losing, though."

"Was she from China?" asked Sirius, now interested, as he had heard none of this information before. The name certainly sounded Chinese.

"No," said Harry. "I think her parents were, though. She was definitely of Chinese descent, but she had kind of a Scottish accent."

"I bet she was pretty," Sirius remarked, trying to tease Harry, but wasn't sure at first if it was actually working.

"Yeah. She was," said Harry, letting out a long sigh. "I hope I meet up with her again."

"I hope so, too, Harry." Sirius rolled over onto his left side. "I hope that you'll be able to do and see a lot of things before too long."

**End Note: **Hi guys! I hope you liked this chapter. I think it's one of my favorites, actually. I thought both of the conversations (Dora and Draco and Sirius and Harry) went pretty well. What does everyone else think? Please remember to leave a good review so that I know what to improve on. The party will be in the next chapter. Also, are any of y'all Sailor Moon fans? I'm in the process of writing my own story for that, too and I need more readers. I only have three reviews so far. So, if any of y'all are in to anime, please check it out.

Merci Beaucoup,

Amélie


	22. Surprise!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Twenty-Two: Surprise!

Draco awoke to the strange sound of birds chirping outside his window. As he had lived in quite a secluded area with his parents, the presence of birds (excluding owls, of course) was very rare. In fact, Draco could not recall ever _hearing_ a bird other than an owl before coming to Hogwarts.

He opened his eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling, noticing for the first time that it was a shade of blue, a color that was not dominant in his parents' home. Upon inheriting the house from his father, Lucius Malfoy had decided that the house needed a bit more "Slytherin pride", as he called it, and painted the walls and ceilings silver and green, with an exception of leaving a few walls, such as those in the bathrooms, white.

The delicious smell of sausage soon filled Draco's nostrils and enticed him to make his way down to the kitchen.

His aunt was standing at the stove, flipping sausages with a spatula, while another spatula floated in midair, flipping pieces of toasts on the grill. It was at this moment that Draco realized that no House Elves were present in the Tonks' household, which, admittedly, was something very strange for Draco to grasp, especially in the area of cooking. At his parents' home, Dobby had always been the one to cook meals. In fact, Draco had never seen either one of his parents even touch a stove for as long as he had been alive.

"Good morning, sweetie." Andromeda gave Draco a warm smile as she noticed him entering the kitchen.

"Good morning," Draco replied, sitting down at the table.

"I hope you like sausage," Andromeda said, gesturing toward the stove. "I haven't had a chance to go to the store yet, so we don't have any bacon."

"Oh, no. That's fine," Draco replied, shaking his head. "I'll eat anything." And it was true. Draco was so hungry at the moment that he could have eaten a horse had it been frying in a pan across from him.

Footsteps could be heard coming nearer and nearer to the kitchen, when Draco turned around and noticed Dora stopping in the archway, stretching and yawning. Her hair was straight this morning and as brown as her mother's, and it was just long enough to be put into a short ponytail (which it was). The eighteen-year-old wiped her eyes and plopped down in the chair next to Draco.

"Good morning," she yawned to both her mother and Draco, though not looking at either one of them. She had her head down on the table and her eyes tightly closed.

"Someone's tired." Draco couldn't resist stating the obvious, to which his cousin only responded by absentmindedly letting out an "uh hmm" in no particular direction.

"Here you go, Draco." Andromeda flicked her wand, opening the cupboard out of which a plate came floating toward the stove. The floating spatula flipped two sausages and two pieces of toast onto the plate, which was in front of Draco in a split second.

"Thank you, Aunt Andromeda." Draco smiled and his stomach began to growl viciously at the sight of the food in front of him. He wasted no time in chowing down.

"Where's Uncle Ted?" He asked after the disappearance of his second sausage.

"He's shoveling snow off the sidewalks," Andromeda replied, placing more bread on the grill. "Without magic. He figures some good manual labor will help him lose his gut, which would be true, _if _he were to do it every day and _not _just on the weekends." She sounded quite annoyed.

"Hey, Mum…" Dora finally lifted her head from the table. Her hair was a mess, barely inside what little of a ponytail she had. She had evidently fallen back asleep from the time she had first put her head down on the table because there was drool coming out of the corner of her lip. Thankfully, she had the mindset to wipe her mouth. "Sirius wanted us to come over to his house around two this afternoon. But," her tired brown eyes swiveled over to Draco, "he said Draco couldn't come. So I guess one of us has to stay here with him."

To be perfectly honest, even though he felt disappointed about not being permitted to come to Sirius' house, Draco didn't blame him in the slightest. If anyone had committed a crime that horrible to Draco or to anyone he loved, he would not be willing to see the assailant, either. At least, not for a while.

"What's it for?" asked Andromeda, passing a plate of food toward her daughter.

"He didn't say much," replied Dora. "He just said there would be several people coming."

&&&&

Four Hours Later-At Hogwarts

"Come on, Neville!" Ron shouted, opening and shutting the dormitory door lazily. "We've gotta hurry!"

"I know!" Neville shouted back. "Let me put the rose in a box first."

Neville certainly wished that Cho could have come along with them. After all, the rose was _her _present. _She _should have been the one to put it in a huge vase and lug it around in a box. At first, though, Neville hadn't thought the box necessary, but once he had considered all the sloshing that the water in the vase might do, he figured that it would be a better idea to have the box. The hard part would be carrying it around. Someone else would have to hold Neville's present while he took the vase or vice versa.

But, that was a problem that could be resolved later. The problem at hand was actually finding a box to put the rose in. Neville had decided that he could use the box in which his grandmother had sent his pajamas that he had left at home, but he did not remember what he had done with it.

He lifted up the draperies of his bed and saw a dark lump on the other side.

"_There it is!" _

The box had somehow gotten lost in all of his clutter and had wound up underneath the bed. However, rather than going to the other side of the bed to retrieve it, Neville instead stuck his arm far underneath the bed to grab the box, when his arm got stuck somewhere along the way.

"Hey, Ron…" he grunted. "Could you help me?"

"What?" Ron asked. Neville heard the dormitory door close for what had to be the fiftieth time and felt the clump of Ron's feet as he walked toward the bed.

"I'm stuck." Neville had a habit of stating the obvious.

Without saying a word, Ron grabbed Neville around the waist and pulled him out from under the bed.

Neville's head was pounding. "Thanks," he said. He quickly ran over to the other side of the bed and pulled out the box. It was cardboard, and therefore, prone to leaks, but hopefully if he could walk slowly, the vase wouldn't splash water into it.

Finally, with Ron carrying Neville's present along with his own, everyone was finally ready to leave.

&&&&

Hermione landed with a splat straight onto her bottom with Parvati knocking right into her back. It was the first time any of the Gryffindor first years had ever used a Portkey, as first years were not taught how to use them. But, Hermione saw that as being for good reason. In her opinion, it was much worse than Flooing was. At least with the latter, one could have a glide out of the fireplace smoothly, but with a Portkey, there was no guarantee of a smooth landing.

Out of the seven of them, Seamus seemed to be the only one who enjoyed their mode of transportation.

"I can't wait to do that again!" he said, his eyes wide.

Parvati rolled her eyes and voiced exactly what Hermione was thinking. "I just want to get inside and see Harry."

"What was the address?" Hermione asked Dean as they all got up from their painful positions on the ground, which was completely covered in snow and sent shivers from Hermione's head to her toes.

Dean had the address to Harry's house written on a small piece of parchment. As he looked down to read it, snow began to fall.

"Uh, one nineteen Primrose Place," he said.

Hermione looked around until she noticed the street sign about ten feet away from them. It was almost covered with snow, but she could still make out that it said 'Primrose Place' on it. Looking around, she noticed that the area was not quite large, with only three houses on either side of the street, a huge contrast from her own neighborhood, which had at least ten houses on either side of each street. However, the people living in _this _area seemed to be much cleaner than those in hers. Unlike the houses in her area, there were no shovels left lying on the ground or trashcans knocked over and debris spilled out onto the street. The Christmas lights were simple and looked as though the owners had taken care in hanging them around the house, rather than looking as though they had been thrown on in two seconds. A beautiful Nativity scene on the left side of the street, looking much like the hand painted porcelain one that Hermione's grandparents had given her two Christmases ago (which she had brought to Hogwarts and placed on her dresser back in September) was glistening with the cracks of sunlight that were shining down on it.

"It has to be up this way," said Dean, who had stopped in front of the first house on the street and was pointing down the right, "this is one fifteen." He then pointed to the brass numbers on the porch so that everyone could see.

Ron wasted no time in going to the third house on the right side of the street. He bolted in that direction like lightning. It was more like a slow bolt of lightning, though. Carrying both his and Neville's presents made it hard for him to run fast. Then again, Hermione didn't think that Ron would run any faster even if he didn't have anything in his hands. He just wasn't in that good of shape.

The other six followed him at a slightly slower pace. Finally, they reached number one nineteen. It was a small brick house with a wooden front porch. It seemed to be about two stories high, with small windows. Evidently, it was somewhat of an old house, because the windows were what Hermione's father always referred to as "wavy".

Through one of those old wavy windows, Hermione could see a light on, which made her mind finally click: she was going to see Harry! A rush of excitement and guilt flooded through her body. She was excited because she had not seen him in so long. Even though they had not been very good friends during Harry's short time at Hogwarts, she owed a lot to him. He had been the one who stopped Malfoy from teasing her. This, in turn, brought in the guilt. If she had not been there at that moment, then Harry would not have gotten in a fight with Malfoy, and none of this would have happened.

Deep down inside, she knew that it was stupid to blame herself. Malfoy had been the source of all of this mess, she knew, and Harry would not blame her in the slightest. But, a nagging voice in her head kept telling her otherwise.

Lavender was the one to walk up to the door and knock. There was a slight creak as the door opened, and out came the most dashing man Hermione had ever seen. He was very thin with beautiful black hair and piercing gray eyes. His smile was the warmest Hermione had ever seen on anyone.

"Hello." The sound of his voice made Hermione float off into a daze. "You must be Harry's friends. I'm Sirius Black, his godfather. He'll be very happy to see you. But, I kept all this a surprise, so he didn't know you were coming."

Mr. Black opened the door wider and gestured for all of them to come inside. The interior of the house was small, the living room being about the size of Hermione's bedroom. Pictures of Harry, Mr. Black, and others lined the walls, along with a large Gryffindor emblem that was hanging on the portion of the wall below the staircase. There was one sofa and an armchair, both dark blue, in the living room. A fire was crackling in the small fireplace.

"Harry's upstairs in his room with the rest of our family," Mr. Black said, gesturing up the stairs. "I'll take you there."

The seven Gryffindor students followed the alluring man up the stairs, a creak following almost every step they took. There were four doors upstairs, all of which were shut. Hermione could hear a familiar voice coming from the room on the right.

Without saying a word, but instead putting a finger to his lips, signaling for the children to stay silent, Mr. Black opened the door to reveal a teenage girl and a middle-aged man sitting on either side of the bed, listening to a boy in the middle talk. Upon seeing the seven Gryffindors, the girl waved and beckoned for them to come in. The man smiled, Harry did not stop talking.

It only occurred to Hermione after she had made it in the room that Harry wasn't just talking. He was reading a book in Braille.

"Harry," the girl interrupted his reading and tugged him on the shoulder. "Guess what? We have a surprise for you!"

"You do?" asked Harry, looking in the girl's general direction. "What is it?"

"You'll see," the man replied. His look told the children not to be afraid.

Ron walked closer to the bed until he was at the edge. It was only natural for him to see Harry first, as he was Harry's best friend.

He sat down slowly, seeming afraid that he might hurt Harry if he sat down too hard.

"H-hi Harry…." he said slowly, gently touching Harry's hand so that he could be sure of where Ron was.

For a moment, Harry was silent. Then, he asked, "Who is this?"

"Harry…" Ron looked embarrassed and uncertain, as if he were wondering whether or not Harry remembered him. "It's…it's Ron."

Upon hearing this, Harry's eyes widened and he threw his arms around Ron's neck.

"Ron!"

Hermione could see tears coming down Harry's cheeks. It was odd, to be honest. Never in her life had she seen a boy cry before, nor had she ever seen one embrace another, except when it came down to a father and son.

One-by-one, Harry had the chance to hug all seven of his fellow Gryffindors, even Hermione, who, she had to admit it to herself one way or another, had not been the nicest of girls at school.

After the excitement of meeting everyone had worn down, Harry's friends began spilling out the details of what had been going on at Hogwarts since he had been gone, especially everything concerning Wood and Flint.

"They've been spending almost three months trying to kill each other!" Ron explained enthusiastically, "and the worst part is that Wood teamed up with Fred and George to try and pull all these pranks on Flint. He even made me put one of their sick pills in Flint's drink so that he would throw up! But, Crabbe walked in and drank it instead, thinking that it was his glass. Really typical of Crabbe, though, if you ask me. No brains whatsoever."

"Has Oliver found a new Seeker?" Harry asked curiously, resting his head on his pillow.

It pained Hermione to see him sit there so helplessly, having people wait on him day and night. Tears suddenly began clouding her vision.

"No," Ron replied, looking Harry straight in the face. "McGonagall actually cut Quidditch after you were hurt. She said coming up with a new Seeker so late in the season wouldn't be good because then he—or she—would have to be trained and stuff. Wood actually didn't seem so upset about it, though, at least not from what I saw of him. Kind of weird to see him not upset about Quidditch. It's practically his whole life."

"It _is _his whole life," Parvati corrected.

About five minutes later, everyone began giving Harry his presents to open. Not surprisingly, it didn't take him long to unwrap them. But, watching him trying to figure out exactly what the presents were was very sad. It certainly made Hermione realize just how important and valuable sight really was.

Finally, when Neville handed Harry the rose from Cho, the poor boy broke down in hysteric sobs. Lavender wrapped her arms around him.

"It's okay, Harry," she said soothingly.

"I can't take this anymore," Harry sobbed, his beautiful green eyes illuminated by his tears. "All of you are so nice to me and thank you so much….But—" he put his hand over his eyes and bit back a scream "—but, if I weren't like this, you wouldn't have gone to all this trouble! I hate being like this! I hate it! I HATE IT!"

Harry began yanking at his hair until a strand of black fell onto the bed.

Mr. Black suddenly appeared in the doorway. "What happened?" He asked, panicked.

"Harry's upset," explained Neville, looking just about as miserable as Harry. "He thinks we went to too much trouble to do all this for him."

"Because it _was _a lot of trouble! I know it!" Harry was now breathing rapidly. "Why did this have to happen? Why? WHY?"

He pulled the covers over his head and screamed. Mr. Black came over and sat on the bed next to him.

"Harry…" he said, "I've told you before: none of us asked for this to happen to you. We all love you,, and we're trying to do the best we can to help you."

"We are, Harry." Hermione's voice was cracked. She couldn't help crying too. There was no way she could even imagine all the pain that Harry was going through. She didn't blame him for crying, not one little bit. "And it wasn't trouble at all for us to do this. We did it because we wanted to show how much we love you."

"I know…." Harry pulled his head out from under the covers, his eyes now swollen and bloodshot. "And I'm so happy that you guys did it. I love all of your presents and I've wanted to see you guys for us a long time." He took a deep breath and then let loose several uneven ones. "But, I want to be normal again. I really do."

"Well…" Dean smiled and patted Harry on the back. "You'll always be normal to us, Harry. Always."

**End Note: **Hey guys. Well, there you have it. As many of you predicted, Harry did have a nervous breakdown during the party. He will have positive and negative moments throughout the story, as people do in normal life. The next chapter will start off from Draco's point of view and will take place during the party. It will also go forward a couple of days. I really hope you liked this chapter. I think I captured Harry's emotions pretty well. Please remember to provide me with a fully, well-developed/analytical review. In other words, please give me something that I can work with. Thanks! Oh, and please forgive me for any grammatical errors. I had to get this posted fast.

Joyeuses Pâques (Guess what that means. Ha ha:)

Amélie


	23. Family Ties

**Author's Note: **Hey guys. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I just graduated from high school two weeks ago, so I've been bogged down with preparation for that. Here's Chapter Twenty-Three!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Twenty-Three: Family Ties

Contrary to what he had first thought this particular day was going to be like, Draco was actually enjoying the afternoon home with his aunt. It had provided them with a wonderful opportunity to get acquainted as they played various Wizarding games, including chess and Gobstones. Draco would have liked to play Quidditch, but the Tonkes had no equipment for it, and plus, it was snowing outside, certainly not a condition for Quidditch playing.

Finally, after about three hours of Andromeda winning each round of every game (about which Draco was not surprised in the least, as he had always been horrible at playing games), both were extremely tired.

Draco lay down on the couch and tried to sleep, but couldn't get his brain to shut down. He kept thinking about why Sirius wouldn't allow him to see Harry. It wasn't like he would dare to hurt him again.

Or maybe, at least in Sirius's mind, it was likely. After all, the Black/Malfoy family was completely crazy and known to commit the same crime multiple times.

Draco sighed and sat up on the couch so that he was facing the window leading to the Tonkes' porch outside. Contrary to what many people he knew expected about his mansion, Draco's home had no porch or garden, just simple balconies and large lawns. Snow was gathering on the sidewalk now and causing frost to form around the edges of the windows.

"Are you hungry, Draco?"

Andromeda brought Draco back to reality. He jumped slightly at the sound of his aunt's voice, but she didn't seem to notice. She had just walked out of the kitchen with a mug in her hands.

"Sure," Draco replied, noticing for the first time that his stomach was rumbling.

"I was just about to make tea. I could make some biscuits if you'd like."

"Oh, yes, please." Draco felt his face light up at his response. Biscuits were his favorite snack, something that Dobby used to make for him on summer afternoons.

Then, suddenly, his feelings of hunger changed to feelings of guilt and worry. How was Dobby doing? Surely, Draco's parents would not have thrown him out of the house for not telling them where Draco was? Surely not….

This idea plagued him for at least ten minutes, until Andromeda called him into the sitting room.

Upon entering the room, Draco realized that he had not paid enough attention to it during the time he had been here. He had never noticed before that it was such a beautiful room. The walls were painted a crimson red, the carpet a dark blue with a golden diamond pattern. There was a small marble coffee table in the middle of the room, on which there was a porcelain tray filled with biscuits, strawberry jam, cream, sugar, and a pot of tea. The latter was soon floating in midair and poured directly into Andromeda's teacup.

Draco slowly and clumsily sat down in the chair across from his aunt, who laughed lightly at seeing him stumble into his seat.

"You're much like Dora," she teased. "It must be a Black gene."

Draco couldn't help but laugh, too.

"Well…thank you," he said, trying to pick up the teapot from the middle of the table.

"Oh, let me, honey." Andromeda raised her wand, causing the pot to float again. It tipped its spout ever so lightly into Draco's cup, letting a warm steam emit.

Draco reached across the table and took a biscuit from the tray and was about to take a bite. Then, as much as he had wanted it, his stomach turned at the sight of it. All he could see was Dobby carrying a large silver tray of them and almost falling in the process. He put the biscuit down on the silver plate in front of him.

Andromeda tapped her nails on the side of her cup and stared with a concerned look at her nephew. _Great_, Draco thought, _now she's going to ask what's wrong and I'm going to have to explain_.

"What is it, sweetie?"

Draco took a deep breath and stared down at his plate.

"My old House-Elf used to make me biscuits like this in the summertime," he explained, "and I'm worried that my parents might have done something to him."

Andromeda nodded in understanding. "So, you told him where you were going?"

"Well…." Draco began slowly, feeling as though a rock had just been thrown at his stomach. "Yeah…but, I told him not to tell because, you know, once you tell a House-Elf something, they can't reveal it to anyone…. I'm just afraid my parents might…torture him or…something."

Andromeda took a sip of tea and looked Draco in the eye.

"After a while," she assured him, "they'll realize that he promised not to reveal anything and they'll stop with whatever they're doing. Besides, House-Elves are far too valuable and efficient for people to go around torturing them, unless they have a whole pack of them around the house, like my great-great grandmother, for instance."

She chuckled and took another sip of her tea. "They're _especially _valuable for someone like your mother."

Draco was at a loss. "What do you mean, 'someone like my mother'?"

Andromeda let out the loudest laugh Draco had ever heard from her.

"Draco, you know that your mother would never work or do anything for herself, even if she was widowed and had ten children to feed. Believe me, a House-Elf is a necessity in her case." She took a biscuit off the tray, put a dab of jam on top of it and took a small, delicate bite.

That was true, Draco had to admit. His mother was extremely lazy and had never done anything for herself. Without Dobby, she probably would have starved herself to death.

He finally got up the courage to nibble on his biscuit and take a small sip of tea, which was not as hot as it had been after coming out of the pot. As he chewed, Draco thought of something, something that he had wanted to scream out for weeks now, but had been too afraid of the answer to do so. But, now, face-to-face with his aunt, Draco figured that she was the best person to ask the question to, for, undoubtedly, she would be the least likely to respond in anger.

"Aunt Andromeda," he began point-blank, putting his biscuit back onto his plate, "why is our family the way it is? Why is it so mean?"

He felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Ever since the incident with Harry, Draco had been pondering the values of his family.

Andromeda leaned back in her chair and looked at the ceiling for a moment, then turned her eyes back to her nephew.

"Well," she said, "I asked myself the very same question when I was your age. Why was my family so obsessed with the Dark Arts and all this evil stuff that I was sure would wind them all up in Hell someday? Well, I don't know. Some people choose to do things that aren't the best of them, and the Blacks and the Malfoys, unfortunately, happened to be some of those people."

"But…" he wasn't sure how to say this. It would have been much easier for him to just punch a wall with all the anger he had locked up inside of him. "But…why did they have to do it? I feel like if I had been a part of any other family, none of this would have happened. I mean…if I hadn't been so pureblood-crazy and stuff…."

"I know, sweetie." Andromeda reached over and squeezed his hand gently. "But you know what?"

"What?" Draco asked, the weight in his stomach rising a bit.

"You're very lucky that you realized your mistake when you did," she responded with a smile. "Because I guarantee that your mother and your father and everyone else in our family who hasn't figured out their mistakes and tried to correct them, are going to be sorry someday. And even if that day's not in this lifetime, it most certainly will be in the next."

"Yeah," Draco agreed honestly. "They will be sorry. You're right."

She laughed lightly and poured more tea into her cup. "Now, if you're ready to get out of this depression, why don't I tell you a story about what I did to your Aunt Bellatrix when I was five…."

**End Note: **So, how was it? Personally, I thought it was good, a nice, intimate conversation, don't you think. Now, the next chapter will be longer, introduce a new character, and provoke a little drama and a scare. No, not like a spooky horror scare. A shock, anxious kind of scare. Stay tuned and PLEASE remember to review.

Merci beaucoup,

Amélie


	24. The New Student and The First Date

**La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Twenty-Four: The New Student and The First Date **

It was approximately one week until Christmas vacation, which meant that this particular week would be jam packed with mid-term exams. And that meant that the weeks leading up to exams had filled with loads and loads of homework and studying. Even Professor Lupin had given the students more than usual to prepare for the exams.

And of course, everyone, save Hermione (and to some extent, Dean) was miserable.

"Why do we even need exams?" Seamus asked no one in particular on Friday as everyone sat in the common room, poured over his or her books. "I mean…why can't we just do worksheets and then graduate?"

"_Because_," Hermione remarked with a look on her face that told everyone else that Seamus was the dumbest person in the world, "teachers want to see our full potential. If all we did were worksheets, then they wouldn't know if we understood the material or if we were just copying everything from the book."

"Why are we always the only ones in here?" Dean asked, making everyone look up at him.

The question itself was very random, but it was a good one. Every time the Gryffindor first years stepped into the common room, all of the other students were nowhere to be found.

"Probably just coincidence," Seamus replied, flipping through his transfiguration textbook idly. "But, it's not a coincidence that teachers give us so much work. They want us to suffer."

Hermione rolled her eyes and put her Herbology book in front of her face. Ron caught her saying something to the effect of "I should have stayed in the library," but he wasn't certain.

But, for once, he didn't blame her for wanting to get away from everyone else. Seamus had become increasingly more annoying as teachers gave more work.

In fact, for the passed five days, Seamus had been doing nothing bit complain. McGonagall had even had him sit out in the hallway for his constant whining. It was a surprise that she had not yet given him a detention.

And speaking of those to whom detention would apply, Fred and George had just walked in through the portrait hole, along with two girls, one of whom Ron recognized as being Sarah Margaret Yarborough, the other, he couldn't recall seeing her before.

"We're not alone anymore, Dean," Lavender pointed out, not minding that she was stating the obvious.

"What are you guys doing in here?" Ron asked his two brothers suspiciously.

He knew they were supposed to be in detention. He distinctly remembered McGonagall coming over to the Gryffindor table during last night's dinner and informing them that they were to report to her office at "_exactly _four-thirty" in the afternoon; and looking at his watch, Ron could see that it was already five, and he knew that McGonagall's detentions never lasted only thirty minutes, regardless of the offense.

Both the twins looked sheepish.

"McGonagall let us out early because she had Crabbe and Goyle to do her work," said George grinning. "And between the four of us, Fred and I are much more angelic, so she let us go."

"Besides, we're in her office almost every day," said Fred. "She's sick of us by now."

Ron found Fred's story to be the more plausible of the two. In no way would anyone, especially someone as hardheaded as McGonagall, think of Fred and George as being "angelic".

Not even their own mother; and boy, did Ron know that to be the truth.

"And why are you two with _them_?" Ron asked the two girls.

Sarah Margaret immediately looked offended. "As you can see, Ron, your brothers were helping Elleinad and I carry are books back from the library. Nothing more."

The four of them were carrying a rather large pile of books, which could only be for the two girls, since Ron knew Fred and George had never opened a single book in their lives.

"Are there any seats open?' Hermione's head shot up like Bill's had the first time he ever heard a motorcycle flying in sky.

"No," replied Sarah Margaret, now fumbling with her books and trying to balance them with her knees. "Madam Pince just put a sign on the doors as we left that said the library had 'reached its full capacity'."

Hermione looked defeated and put her nose back to her book.

"Have any of you met Elleinad Snave?" Sarah Margaret asked, gesturing to the girl beside her. "She comes to us from the Salem Institute in the US."

The first years all shook their heads.

Elleinad was very pretty. She was very tall and lean, with straight black hair and skin as dark as the night sky. Ron thought she looked much like Angelina Johnson, but with much longer hair.

No wonder the twins had offered to help her with her books.

"Hi everybody." She waved nervously, her voice showing roots of a Northern American accent. "It's nice to meet all of you."

"You, too," the first years said in unison, none of them sure what else to say.

Elleinad gave a timid smile and clutched her books tighter.

"Come on, Ellei," Sarah Margaret said, "I'll get you caught up with classes. It's a shame you came at the very end of the semester…."

Sarah Margaret continued to babble all the way up to the girls' dormitory, before she remembered that Fred and George were holding half of the books that she and Elleinad needed and ordered them to bring the rest of them upstairs.

"We have a lot of studying to do, you know," she said rudely. "Unlike you two, we want to pass our classes."

Both twins scowled and trudged up the stairs. Sarah Margaret was nice, but sometimes she reminded Ron of a mixture of Percy and Hermione.

And that was no combination anyone could want.

&&&&

It was Saturday, and Sirius found himself standing in front of his bathroom mirror, feeling totally nervous. He wore silky black robes that he had kept in his closet for years. They were rather expensive, a bit out of his income range when he had first purchased them six years ago.

Although Fudge like to say that Sirius "one of the highest paid Aurors in the business", the term "highest paid" was in every way misleading, especially when it came to his being a single parent. On top of that, being the single parent of a now needy child hurt his finances even more.

But now, Sirius was working hard to make the best of everything, including tonight, because tonight was the night he would be going on his first date with Jana Wilder. After some intense begging from both Harry and Dora to ask the young woman to dinner, Sirius had finally consented and got up his courage to do so.

He had been delighted to see light in Harry's eyes when he told him that Jana had accepted his offer. It was the happiest Sirius had seen his godson be in weeks.

Sirius' only fear was that he would somehow mess up during this date.

So, with that in mind, he stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing every inch of his appearance. His hair was freshly washed and combed over his forehead just the way he liked it and his face was clean-shaven, and he had made sure to put a sprinkle of cologne on his neck. But, even so, he still looked awful.

His robes were looser than he remembered them being when he had bought them, and his face was as white as milk. Harry's condition had taken a great toll on his godfather, more than he would have liked to admit. He really couldn't see what Jana saw in him to convince her to go on a date with him.

Four minutes later, the clock on Sirius' bedroom wall struck, which it did every half hour. His eyes widened and his stomach turned as he whipped around to look at it. He was supposed to be picking up Jana right now! How could he have possibly lost track of time? How long had he been staring into the mirror?

At that moment, there was a knock on Sirius's bedroom door. It opened, and Andromeda, who had been in the living room with Dora, Harry, and Remus, poked her head inside the room.

"Sirius? Aren't you supposed to be gone by now?" she asked him, looking a bit concerned.

"Yes," Sirius replied hurriedly, taking once last glance in the mirror for no particular reason. There was nothing he could do to make his face less pale or put more meat on his bones.

He sped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

In the living room, he found Harry and Dora sitting on the sofa, a stitching pad resting on Dora's knee. It appeared that she was attempting to teach Harry how to sew, which Sirius felt rather uncomfortable with for several reasons: the first being that he had always considered sewing to be a woman's pastime. In fact, Sirius had never witnessed anyone with a Y chromosome doing it. The second problem Sirius had with it was the fact that needles were sharp, and when considering Harry's condition, he could easily hurt himself.

Harry seemed to be enjoying it, however, as he appeared to be listening intently to what Dora was telling him. Besides, as Sirius was already behind schedule with his date, he did not have time to tell Dora off. Instead, he simply walked over to the sofa and kissed both of them good-bye.

Remus was sitting in the armchair next to Harry reading a book and gave Sirius a smirk when he walked by, obviously mocking him.

"Good luck," Harry told his godfather, smiling widely. "I know she likes you."

"Me, too," Dora agreed, her hair now long, curly and blonde. "She really does."

Sirius smiled. "Thanks, you two." He gave Remus a playfully scornful look.

He walked over to the doorway and grabbed his cloak and gloves. As he opened the door to leave, he turned to Andromeda, who had followed him to the door.

"How's Draco?" he asked her, the cold wind blowing into the house from behind him.

Andromeda smiled a bit weakly. "He's doing better. Ted's with him right now."

Sirius nodded, feeling a bit bad that he didn't have time to say more. He kissed his favorite cousin on the cheek and headed out the doorway.

"Good luck!" Andromeda waved to him encouragingly as he walked down the path to the road, about to Apparate for Jana's apartment.

&&&&

Upon his arrival, Sirius had to admit that Jana's apartment building looked much better covered in snow than it did drenched in rain.

He took a deep breath and walked against the wind as fast as he could up to Jana's door. Reaching it, he knocked vigorously, worried about what Jana might say to his being late.

Ironically, though, she did not seem at all upset. Opening the door with a creak, she poked out her head, her blonde hair in freshly done curls. A happy smile sprang on her face when she noticed Sirius.

"I'm sorry I'm—" Sirius began, wanting to get out an explanation as fast as possible so that it didn't seem to Jana as though he didn't care about being late.

But, she shook her head and interrupted him. "It's fine. I just got ready. You made it right on time."

She opened the door to reveal her entire outfit. It was a beautiful crimson robe with beads in the cuffs of her sleeves and sequins on the neckline. She even wore matching gloves.

"You look lovely," Sirius said, feeling himself turn red, quite sure that it wasn't from the cold. She looked absolutely radiant.

"Thank you," Jana replied, taking a matching red cloak off the hat stand next to the door and draping it around her shoulders. With a flick of her wand, she turned out the lights of the apartment. Then, stepping outside, she gave her wand another flick, shutting and locking the door behind her.

"So," she smiled to Sirius, pocketing her wand inside her robe, "where are we going for dinner?"

"Well," Sirius began, linking arms with her and leading her down the stairs to the ground floor, "I was thinking somewhere in Hogsmeade. But, as to a specific restaurant, I was going to leave that up for you to decide."

"Oh, I love Hogsmeade," Jana replied. "But, I've never been to any of the restaurants, exactly. I…I tried going in one once, but the owner kicked me out."

"Excuse me?" Sirius stopped walking and his eyes widened. "Kicked you out? Why?"

Now, he was concerned. This date might have been a bad idea after all. Jana sighed heavily.

"It's a very stupid story," she explained. "I did nothing wrong. It was the owner. I'll explain when we get there."

Taking her word for it, Sirius stopped on the snowy sidewalk and Apparated them both to their destination.

&&&&

Hogsmeade was crammed with people, all of whom Sirius assumed were doing some shopping for the Christmas holidays. The snow had stopped falling and now left a fresh white blanket on the rooftops of the shops. None, however, was fresh on the ground. With all the feet that had walked across it, Sirius figured the ground had to be covered with the dirtiest snow in the world.

"I'm sorry," he told Jana in disappointment, "I hope the restaurants aren't too crowded."

"It's all right," said Jana, brushing her hair out of her eyes with her fingers. "We'll find something."

They walked along the sidewalk, gently pushing past people, trying to find somewhere to go. Jana kept commenting on all the shops and the various items she had purchased from them. That reminded Sirius to ask her about why she had been kicked out of a restaurant.

"So…" he started weakly, not too sure of how to lead into it, "you said that you were 'kicked out' of one of the restaurants?"

Jana sighed angrily, her eyes flashing, although Sirius didn't think that her look or her temper was directed at him.

"Yes," she said. "It was the Hog's Head. The owner kicked me out because he thought I was German."

Sirius looked at her, feeling amused and no doubt showing it on his face. "He thought you were _German_?" He let out a chuckle.

"Yeah," said Jana sadly, although not seeming to be upset with Sirius's amused take on the situation. "I think it was my hair. Germans have a trademark for being blond, so he assumed that I was, I guess. Anyway, what happened was the waitress gave me a seat and was about to take my order when the owner walked over to me and started asking me my name so that he could see what my nationality was. I told him the truth. I said that my name was Jana Wilder, farthest from German as you can possibly get, and he still kicked me out. He said I was lying and that I really _was _German, that I was hiding my accent. I argued for a while, but eventually, I gave up and left. He had to be the rudest man I've ever met."

She let out another sigh, her head down. Sirius put his arm around her.

"It's ok," Sirius said, trying to comfort her. "Some people are just like that. I can't help but wonder what he has against Germans, though."

"No idea," Jana replied quietly.

"How about The Three Broomsticks?" Sirius asked, trying to cheer her up. "Madam Rosemerta certainly isn't prejudiced against anyone."

"Alright," Jana returned his offer with a smile. "That sounds good."

Sirius wasn't convinced that she was any better, however. Yet, he was not willing to bring up the subject again, just in case Jana became angry with him.

Soon, they arrived at The Three Broomsticks, a lively, cheery restaurant with an enormous crowd at the bar. Luckily, Sirius and Jana had no intention of sitting there.

A tall woman with grayish brown curls and a pretty face smiled at Sirius as he and Jana entered.

"Sirius!" she said brightly, walking over and giving him a hug. "I haven't seen you in ages!" Her smile suddenly dropped to a frown and her voice to a whisper. "Is Harry doing better?"

"A bit," Sirius replied truthfully. "He's just taking it one day at a time. We both are."

He smiled weakly and turned to Jana. "Madam Rosemerta, meet Jana Wilder."

Madam Rosemerta smiled and shook Jana's hand. "Nice to meet you, darling. Now, where would you two like to sit?"

"Preferably somewhere away from the door," Jana answered sweetly.

It was extremely cold, and with the amount of people constantly leaving and coming, a table near the door would not be pleasant, especially not for a first date. Madam Rosemerta nodded politely and beckoned them to follow her, although, looking around, Sirius could see that the majority of the tables were full, especially the ones in the back of the pub.

But, like always, Madam Rosemerta was able to make everything possible. She found a table in the very back of the pub, near the stairs leading up to her living quarters, where Sirius and Jana could sit and be comfortable.

"So, what can I get the two you to drink first?" Madam Rosemerta asked, her wide smile still on her face.

"I'll have a butterbeer, please," Jana said.

"I'll have tea, please," Sirius replied.

"Alright." Madam Rosemerta took out a sheet of parchment from her pocket and used her wand to write down the orders. "I'll be back in a bit with your drinks, and then I'll take your meal order."

After she left, Sirius couldn't help commenting on her hospitality. "She's always been such a sweet woman," he said. "I've known her since my first visit to Hogsmeade. She's what really makes this place special for me."

"She seems very nice." Jana smiled.

Sirius felt nervousness coming on him. Now was the time for him to strike up a conversation with Jana. But, what could he talk about?

Then, he realized that they barely knew anything about each other's pasts.

"So," he said, "where does your family come from? What town, I mean?"

"Well," Jana began, "my parents are Americans. I am, too, actually."

"Really?" Sirius raised his eyebrows. "You don't have an American accent."

It was true, too. She sounded just as English as he did.

"Yeah, I know," she replied. "That's because we moved here when I was two. My father worked in the Foreign Affairs Department at the Ministry of Magic in Atlanta, and he was transferred here as an ambassador."

"Does he still work there, then?" Sirius asked folding his hands. "At the one in London?"

"Yes," Jana answered, but before she could say anything else, Madam Rosmerta had returned with their drinks.

"Here you go," the kind woman said, placing the drinks from her tray onto the table. "Now, what would you like to eat?"

Sirius looked at Jana, telling her that she could order first. "I'll have the mushroom pasta, please."

"I'll just have a salad, please," Sirius said, realizing that he was not particularly hungry for one reason or another.

"Alright," said Madam Rosemerta, again using her wand to write. "Your orders should be out soon."

"Just a salad?" Jana asked, looking at Sirius in disbelief after Madam Rosemerta was out of earshot. "You need more than that, Sirius. You're skin and bone."

"I know." Sirius said, "I just have a lot on my mind right now."

Jana's eyes looked comforting, and she looked as though she were about to speak, when suddenly, there was a loud crash, and an owl came flying through the window of the pub. Shattered glass flew everywhere. People jumped up from their seats and began screaming.

Jana ducked underneath the table, but Sirius's heart froze when he recognized the snowy white owl that was flying straight towards him.

_Hedwig…._

She landed right in the middle of the table. Jana got up from the floor and sat in her seat.

"Isn't that Harry's owl?" she asked.

"Yes." Sirius's heart was racing. He snatched the note that was tied to Hedwig's foot and read it in horror.

_Sirius. We've taken Harry to the hospital. He's very sick. Come right away._

_~Remus._

**End Note: **Hey guys! I hoped you liked this chapter. Please give me some feedback. Did you like Elleinad? What do you think is wrong with Harry? Why does the Hog's Head owner hate Germans so much? Please offer me some analysis!

Merci,

Amélie


	25. Debt

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Twenty-Five: Debt

Sirius ran down the hallways of St. Mungo's with Jana right behind him. He was running so fast that the walls were beginning to blur, or perhaps they were blurring as a result of how messed up Sirius' brain was. He was so scared for Harry that he could hardly think straight. His head was pounding so hard that he felt as if he had been hit with a falling beam from a building.

_Room 409_, he thought, just glancing at the doors flying by him long enough to see if any of them were the one that held Harry.

Finally, he saw a room at the very end of the hallway. _Of course, it would be at the very end._

Bursting open the white door, Sirius heard a surprised scream from a very familiar voice coming from the other side.

Remus and Andromeda were standing at the end of the white metal bed in which Harry lay, while Dora, at the head of the bed, stared at the door as though Sirius were a ghost. But Sirius could care less. The object of Sirius's panicked was lying atop the white sheet less bed. Harry was almost as white as the bed itself, and Sirius noticed that he had a needle in his arm, which told his godfather that he must have been vomiting, as medicine was only administered through needles if the patient could not take or hold down a potion.

He walked over to the bed and kissed him, noticing instantly that the boy was burning with fever.

"What happened to him?" he asked, still panicked. His heart was racing as fast as a Nimbus 2000.

"He told me he wasn't feeling well shortly after you left," Dora explained, looking as bad as Sirius felt. Her hair was again that mousy brown color that it only became when she was upset. "He said he was feeling well," she repeated, "and, a few minutes later, he started throwing up… a lot. Then, he started shaking…."

"That's when we took him to the hospital," Remus finished slowly.

Sirius looked back at his sleeping godson and brushed the hair out off his forehead, unintentionally making his scar visible.

"What is he ill with?" he asked, still staring down at Harry and hoping that he was merely sleeping from the medicine he was being given and not as a result of whatever illness he had. Jana came up quietly behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"We're not sure," Andromeda responded for the first time. "It might have been a result of a reaction to the other medicines he had been given in the hospital after he received his injuries."

Sirius nodded to his cousin in understanding. She was not dressed in her Healer uniform, for obvious reasons, and her hair was quite disheveled. She must have been in just as much of a panic as Sirius had been.

"I gave him a sleeping draft," she continued. "It should keep him asleep for the rest of the night. It should help his fever go down."

"How long will he be in the hospital?" Sirius asked, now looking intently at his cousin. Not only was he afraid for Harry's wellbeing; he didn't want him to be sick for a long time, but he was also concerned for the amount of money this would cost. He had been under tremendous stress with trying to make enough money to pay off the amount he owed from Harry's first hospital trip. And the longer Harry spent in the hospital, the more Sirius owed.

"Probably only tonight and tomorrow morning," Andromeda said, noticing Sirius's concern and apparently making an attempt to be optimistic for him. "He's stabilized now, and probably only needs an antibiotic." She paused, looking at the expression on Sirius's face, which, he imagined, was one of skepticism. He knew Andromeda was just trying to make him calm down. "Really, Sirius," she said. "These types of illnesses are easy to treat if they're caught early, which this one was."

She walked over to her cousin, took his hands, and shook them. "He'll be _fine_. I promise."

&&&&

"Sirius! Sirius! Where are you?"

Sirius whipped open his eyes to the sound of the voice calling his name. He looked at his surroundings, still very sleepy, and for a moment, forgot where he was. The white walls and floor seemed very unfamiliar, and the bed he was sleeping in was much lower to the ground than and not as comfortable as the one he was used to, but, then, he realized. He was in the hospital!

_Harry! _It was Harry's voice that was calling his name. He jumped up off the cot (it wasn't much of a bed) he was sleeping on and ran over to Harry's bed. The boy's eyes were open and he was yelling, terrified.

"It's ok, Harry," Sirius responded, breathing hard. He was still rather sleepy, and couldn't believe that it was so. Normally, in a situation like this, Sirius would have had the worst time sleeping. But this time, he must have been in one of the deepest sleeps he had been in in weeks.

"It's ok," he repeated, taking his godson's hand. "You're still in the hospital."

"I know," Harry sighed. Sirius could feel that his fever had gone down ever so slightly, but he was still pale and had bags under his eyes. "I can smell the medicine, and the needle's still in my arm."

"Well, that needle's giving you some vital medicine," Sirius explained, squeezing Harry's hand gently. To be honest, he was surprised that the boy hand not woken up and yanked the needle out of his arm. "You can't take a regular potion until you can eat and drink without vomiting."

"M y stomach still hurts." Harry let out a big sigh after he said this, which gave Sirius the idea that he was trying to suppress vomit.

Looking frantically around the room for a trashcan, Sirius suddenly had the idea to transfigure something _into _trashcan. He grabbed a chair in the corner of the room and shouted the incantation in Latin. Once the chair had changed, Sirius held the can near Harry's head, just in case.

A knock was heard at the door, and Sirius told whoever it was to come in. An older Healer with thick red hair and slightly wrinkled face came in. Andromeda had had to leave shortly after Sirius came, simply because it had not been her shift. Healers were not supposed to administer drugs to patients if they were not working at the current time. The rule was that they were supposed to leave patients to those who were working. Why that was the case was not specified, but Andromeda suspected it had something to do with allowing everyone to have "an equal amount of work". But, of course, this had been an emergency, and as such, she was allowed to be around long enough to get Harry into a stable condition. She left dragging Dora behind her. The teenager had wanted to stay with Harry so badly that she had latched herself onto Harry's bed which really drove her mother over the edge. She said that Dora had no business being in the hospital where she could disturb a sick Harry. Remus and Jana had wanted to stay with Sirius for the night, but he had insisted they go home, apologizing to Jana for how their date had gone. But, she said there was no need to apologize. Sirius could not have helped the situation, and she would pray for Harry. He needed all the support and love he could get. Sirius thanked her, very grateful for her concern, and said he hoped to see her soon.

The Healer greeted Sirius in a kind fashion and inquired about Harry.

"Is he feeling any better?" she asked gently. She had a sweet, sing-song kind of voice, the type that could make the angriest of people happy.

"No," Harry responded for Sirius, sounding rather offended that the Healer had not asked _him _about how he was feeling.

"Well," the woman said kindly, not noticing Harry's aggravation. "You're stable, and you'll probably be able to go home later today. We're prescribing potions for you take while you're sick. There's one that you take before the others that help them stay down in case you're going to vomit. It's much better than having to take a shot of potion."

"Yes, it is," Harry agreed, before Sirius could ask how much money all of this would cost him. "But, why didn't you give me that potion before? Now I have this stupid needle in my arm." His voice suddenly became hoarse.

"In order the potion to work, you have to wait until you've stopped vomited for at least an hour,' the Healer responded sweetly. "And dear, I saw you last night, and you were in no condition to wait an hour for medicine. The needle was mandatory."

"How much money do I owe for all this? The stay and the medicine?" Sirius asked, hoping that it wouldn't be more than one thousand galleons.

"Well, your stay actually costs more than Harry's does, as he was the patient," the woman replied, seeming to be doing the calculations in her head. "For the both of you, it costs around a thousand galleons."

Sirius' mouth dropped open. She hadn't even figured in the cost of the medicines yet, and it was already over what Sirius could afford. His heart dropped.

"With the medicine," she continued, not noticing Sirius's astonishment. She didn't appear to be good at noticing anything. "The cost will probably be one thousand-five hundred galleons, but," she tried to look a bit optimistic, "the five hundred galleons is from three medicines: the potion Harry takes to keep him from vomiting, the potion to stop the virus, and one to reduce fever more rapidly. The last one is just in case his fever goes up. If it goes down fast, then he won't need it."

_But, he could get more fevers as time goes by, _Sirius thought. _It wouldn't be a bad thing to have. _Really, it wouldn't be. With Harry's condition, he could be getting sick much more often. This could just be the beginning of a bunch of illnesses. With a fever-reducer at hand, the amount of illnesses could be reduced also. Perhaps it would be a good idea to get it.

_No! _A voice in the back of Sirius's mind shouted. _You're broke as it is! You can't afford it. You'll be in massive debt, more massive than you are already in._

This conflict went on inside his head for a number of moments, during which the nurse must have given up on talking to Sirius because she had moved closer to Harry and began talking to him. Finally, he decided to give in and buy the medicine.

While he didn't totally regret it, his heart filled with guilt when he received the bill.

&&&&

"I don't even have enough money to pay the bills this month," Sirius said miserably the next night. He was sitting at Ted and Andromeda's kitchen table. Harry had wanted to go over to their house just get out of his. He was still rather ill, but as he couldn't walk, Sirius figured that it would be alright for him to go, although, he wasn't particularly comfortable with Draco somewhere in the house.

"I mean," he thought for a moment, "I could always sell some of my furniture, I guess. I bet the sofa's worth a few hundred galleons, and the coffee table in the living room probably is, too, and the lamp in my bedroom. I probably could sell my bed, too, as I don't really sleep in it now that Harry needs me to sleep with him. I bet all that could pay the bills."

"What about Grimmauld Place?" asked Ted, who was standing at the sink and washing the dishes manually. "More exercise", as he called it, although Sirius wasn't exactly sure why, He guessed having to scrub the dishes hard and reaching up and down to put them in the cupboards burned calories, or so Ted apparently thought.

What he suggested had certainly given Sirius an idea, however. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had been Sirius's childhood home, and was now his legal inheritance, as his mother had passed away a few years before, and he was the eldest (and now the only remaining) descendant that she had. Sirius had not set foot in it in over twelve years. It had had too many horrible memories for him to ever consider going back.

"That would be a good idea," Andromeda, who was sitting across from Sirius, agreed with her husband, nodding. "You're the legal owner, and as such, you could sell it if you wanted to. None of us need that old house. It's just been sitting there for years, and I'm sure there are some people needing homes who would love to buy it and fix it up. And it would certainly sell for enough money to pay your bills and all of Harry's expenses. You could even give Kreacher to whoever buys it. Although," she considered this. "He probably wouldn't like that."

"Can House-Elves do that, though?" Ted asked, struggling to get a stain off a glass casserole dish. "Change masters?"

"Yes," Sirius replied, "if the master chooses to give them away, which I gladly would."

It was the truth, too. Sirius absolutely hated Kreacher and would never want anything to do with him for as long as he lived.

"But who would want to buy it, though?" Sirius wondered. As he thought about it more and more, he realized that barely anyone would want to buy it if they knew who had owned it before. Not even a homeless wizard would want that house. He voiced his concern to his relatives.

"My parents would want it," a voice came floating in from the kitchen door. Sirius and the Tonkses turned to see Draco standing in the doorway. "I mean it," he said, walking slowly toward the table. "They would sell their own mansion for it. I _know _they would."

Sirius turned his head away from Draco, ignoring him. He didn't have time for Draco's foolishness.

"Really, Sirius." At the sound of the close proximity of Draco's voice to him, Sirius turned his head and noticed that the blond boy was now standing right next to the table, and his voice sounded as if he were begging."Really. They really want that house. They've been talking about it practically since I was born. They say you don't deserve to have it, and that they'd do anything to get it from you; and I think that includes paying you all the money they have."

The sound of someone slipping on hardwood suddenly came from the hallway.

"Sorry," Dora stammered as she gripped onto the door to prevent her from falling. Her hair was short, curly, and flaxen at the moment. "Harry's asleep on the couch. I just need my ear solution."

She had pierced the top cartilage of her left ear a few days before and had to rub it with a special potion to keep it from hurting while the hole was growing in since she was not able to take the earring out. She walked slowly and cautiously over to the medicine cupboard. Once she had her potion, she hurriedly walked out of the kitchen, but then, poked her head in to say, "I'm not eavesdropping," which gave Sirius the impression that she really was.

"Please, Sirius." Draco continued as though Dora had never made any interruption at all. "Please. They would give anything, _anything _for that house."

Sirius considered this for a few moments; and after a while, he looked into the sincere, scared, desperate eyes of Draco Malfoy and realized that the boy, for the first time in his life, might have given the right advice.

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! How did you like this chapter? I hope it was long enough. I'm on a tight schedule with college and all that, but I'm trying to make time for my fics, too, because I really don't want you guys to wait too long for an update. The next chapter will feature Sirius and his discussion with the Malfoys, and more of Elleinad, Jana, and even Flint and Wood. Please review and tell me what you thought of this chapter.

Merci milles fois,

Amélie


	26. The Price is Right

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Twenty-Six : The Price is Right

Tuesday afternoon was one of bliss for Hermione. She knew she had received Outstandings on all three of the exams that she had taken thus far (Transfiguration, Herbology, and Potions), so she had every reason to be happy after having studied for ten hours out of every day for the past two weeks. Now all she had to was worry about were Potions, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Astronomy. But, in fact, "worry" wasn't even the proper word, as she had probably studied ten hours for each of those classes on top of the studying she had done for the exams she had already taken. "Nervous" was a much better way to describe it.

The other Gryffindors, apart from Dean, unfortunately, were not so lucky. Ron had probably spent around thirty minutes on the whole studying (which was in and of itself a long time for him), and Seamus had not even opened a book in the past week, making him the most ill-prepared of all of them.

But, of course, it was not Hermione's fault if any of them failed their exams. She had done all she could do to make them do their best, but now it was all on them. She now had some much needed time to herself.

Well, not _really _all to herself, as the other first year Gryffindors were walking in a group alongside her. Seamus was even ruining the moment by talking about the exams, which Hermione didn't understand at all. He obviously wasn't going to study, so his constant chatter was just empty words.

"Lupin said we can use notes on our exam, but I don't know what notes to bring," he kept saying.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"He actually said we can use whatever we can _fit on a piece of parchment_," Parvati corrected. "We can't just use any notes."

"And it's not like it's going to matter for you," Dean teased. "It's not like you took any notes to begin with. You spend every class doodling in that notebook you have."

"That's true," Seamus nodded in agreement, not sounding the least bit offended, as he knew it was the truth.

The seven of them were walking through the snow around the now-frozen black lake. Hermione wondered how the giant squid was doing underneath all that ice, if it hadn't died from lack of moving space already.

"My toes are freezing," Ron commented roughly, pausing to bend over and examine his shoes.

"If your toes are freezing, Ronald, the _last _thing you need to do is take off your shoes," Hermione said irritably. Sometimes Ron had no common sense.

"She's right, you know," a voice said from nearby.

Hermione looked up and noticed Sarah Margaret Yarborough, Elleinad Snave, Lee Jordan, and the Weasley twins walking toward them.

Elleinad had been the one to speak, as the accent of the speaker had been distinctly American. Oddly enough, she was wearing a pair of yellow rain boots and carrying a pink and white polka dotted umbrella.

"Really," she said, referring to her last comment. "Your toes can turn black and fall off if they get too cold."

"Thanks," Ron responded, although he sound more annoyed than thankful. "But I wasn't going to take off my shoes. I was going to see if I could get the snow off."

_Right, _Hermione thought sarcastically. _Like he could do that when we're surrounded on all sides by snow._

"Why do you have an umbrella and rain boots?" Lavender asked, almost reading Hermione's mind.

"My other boots get wet in the snow and seep through my socks and I haven't mastered the spell to keep it from happening yet," Elleinad explained. "So for now, I just wear rain boots. And the umbrella's just to keep off the snowflakes…when there are some," she added quickly, "because there aren't any right now."

That actually was a pretty good idea, Hermione had to admit; although, it did look rather strange.

"So, what's everyone up to?" asked George, whose nose was about as red as a cherry. The wind suddenly began to blow hard.

"We're just walking," Hermione answered for the group, pulling her scarf over her own nose.

"The question is: what are you up to?" Ron asked. "Normally, you guys would be putting shampoo all over Snape's desk or something by now."

"Shampoo?" Fred asked, sounding as though his brother was being condescending. "If we wanted to pull a prank on Snape, we would use slime."

"Although, shampoo wouldn't hurt," Lee commented thoughtfully.

"We were trying to help Oliver get back at Flint," George explained. "But, then he decided that our ideas were too 'juvenile'. I don't know what he has planned now."

"I think I do," Neville commented with a squeaky voice. He was pointing across the frozen lake.

Both Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint were absorbed in yet another fistfight, this one much worse than the last. They had literally pinned each other to the ground and appeared to be drawing blood. Everyone around them was screaming in a mixture of fright and protest on both sides, until the unthinkable happened.

In a split second, the two of them had rolled right into the frozen lake, breaking through the ice with a loud crack. Lavender, Elleinad, and Sarah Margaret all screamed in horror as the two boys struggled. Some of the older students were trying spells to get them out, while others tried to pull them out with their own hands. Neither attempts seemed to be working.

The students were forced to watch as the two boys struggled under the freezing water. Hermione only hoped that the giant squid hadn't noticed that the lake's calmness had been disturbed.

Finally, though, after what seemed like an eternity, Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Lupin arrived, panicked, and hurriedly hoisted the two boys from the water.

Hermione heard a _thunk_ behind her as Lavender collapsed onto the snow in shock.

"Well, that should teach them not to fight anymore," Elleinad said matter-of-factly.

Just then, snowflakes began to fall in abundance.

&&&&

Dora yawned broadly in the doorway to Sirius' office. It had been an extremely long day of training, and Dora still had problems with the spells. To make it worse, Sirius had just told her that he was going to give her a written assessment on everything that she had learned over the past few months. With all the stress, she just wanted to sleep.

However, the stress wasn't over yet. Dora knew there was more to come as soon as her notorious, pure-blooded obsessed aunt and uncle walked through the doorway and took in the sight of her. Granted, she had only seen them a few times in her life, as her parents had _never_ been close with them, but Dora knew they despised her. No doubt about it.

"I hope they take my offer," she heard Sirius say as he sat down in his desk, his eyes still lined with circles.

The office was littered with papers from more crimes than Dora could count or had even heard of. She wondered how old some of them were and if Sirius had ever solved them since there had to be at least fifty different cases. She had always known how much of a stress being an Auror could be, but she couldn't help but think Sirius was pushing himself too hard.

"From the way Draco was talking, it seems like they will," Dora responded.

Sirius looked up at her and raised his eyebrows. "So you _were_ eaves dropping?"

"Of course," she chuckled. "How could I not?"

She peaked down the hallway to see if her horrid relatives were anywhere near.

"Eaves dropping is what I'm good at," she continued, "although, I really did need my ear potion."

And that couldn't be farther from the truth. Her ear had been killing her that night, and it still was, but to a lesser extent. She rubbed the area around her new earring roughly as she thought about it. But, it would be less of a distraction if her aunt and uncle would just hurry up and show.

Then, suddenly, she heard some intense grumbling of voices from farther down the hallway. She knew instantly that that had to be them. Who else would complain about "Black"? Well, who besides Fudge?

Dora's suspicions were confirmed when she saw her uncle's blond head appear. While he was in conversation with his wife, he wasted no time in casting his niece a grimace and rolling his eyes at her.

_It's my hair_, she thought. It was curly and violet today, which could be a turnoff for a lot of people, especially the "well to do" like her relatives.

"I hope you're planning on letting us by, Nymphadora," Narcissa commented dryly as the Malfoys approached Sirius's office. Dora could smell an annoyingly large amount of perfume on her aunt's clothes.

_She must have forgotten to take a bath this morning_, Dora couldn't help but think jokingly, and showed her thoughts with a giggle.

Lucius, not one to play games, forced his way through the doorway and into the mess that was Sirius's office. The look on his face told his niece that he was not pleased with the state of the place.

"What's going on, Black?" he demanded rudely, seeming to want to leave the place as fast as he could. His cold gray eyes were flashing dangerously.

Dora felt horrible for Sirius. Her cousin lifted himself from his chair and stared, pale-faced (it seemed now that "pale" was the only color that his face could produce) and angry, at the Malfoy patriarch.

"As you _may _know," he began sarcastically, "my godson has undergone some extensive hospital treatment in the past few weeks."

Lucius's expression remained unchanged. Dora was appalled.

"And?" Lucius persisted impatiently.

"And," Sirius continued, "I haven't the money to pay for all the expenses. So," he took a deep breath and glanced around the cluttered room for a moment, "I'm willing to sell you something to pay for them."

Narcissa's eyebrows rose, which, oddly enough, seemed to increase the odor of her perfume, at least in Dora's direction. The teenager let out a cough and moved to the other side of the room, as far away from her aunt as possible.

"What are planning on selling us?" the blonde woman asked suspiciously.

"The entirety of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place." Sirius let out the sentence as fast and with as much vigor as he could and had, obviously anticipating a great reaction from the Malfoys.

It came faster than Dora had expected. Narcissa's loud and excited comment made her niece jump unprepared.

"The whole house?" she asked, eyes wide. "With _everything in it_?"

"Yes." Sirius nodded without so much a hint of emotion other than sincerity, which, as far as Dora knew, wasn't even an emotion at all. Or maybe it was. She couldn't be sure. All she knew for certain was that Sirius hated that house more than flobberworms hated salt.

"We'll take it!" Narcissa squealed, looking hurriedly at her husband for confirmation.

Lucius nodded affirmatively. "But not at just any price," he said. "I won't give you more than one hundred thousand galleons."

Before anyone could stop her, Dora let out a disapproving noise. It was just like the Malfoys to be greedy.

"Shut up, girl," Lucius commanded his niece, obviously noticing her disapproval. Dora didn't care about her uncle's opinion, however. On the contrary, it was he who should have considered giving thought to the opinions of others.

"That's fine," Sirius agreed. "That's at least a start. I can come up with the rest of the money I need."

He sat back down in his chair and Dora noticed that his hands were shaking. She knew it was from anger, and she didn't blame him in the slightest.

"I'll give you the money tomorrow," Lucius said roughly, now that the mattered had been settled. He grabbed his wife's hand and strutted quickly out of the office.

Dora didn't think she had ever seen anyone leave in that much of a hurry. And through it all, it seemed as though the Malfoys were nonchalant about Draco. They did not so much as inquire as to whether or not Sirius knew anything of his whereabouts nor did they express their sorrow for him.

Dora was glad that he was out of their hands.

&&&&

Jana watched as Harry slept soundly on his bed. He was still rather ill and not in a very good condition to do lessons, so she had decided to let him rest. He had to be the most adorable thing she had ever seen, but it pained her to think about all he had been through in his life. The loss of his parents and now of his sight and mobility. He was a very brave boy to have gone through so much.

And she had to praise Sirius for all the love that he had for Harry. As a single parent, he had to work extra hard and sacrifice more than most.

But hopefully, he wouldn't have to work so hard for long….

**Author's Note: **Hey guys! I hope you liked this chapter. I thought it was pretty good, especiall Jana's thoughts at the end. Next chapter will be more of Hogwarts, along with a funny look at just how clever Dean Thomas is. And in case you guys are wondering, Elleinad is not a villain and she did not cause Flint and Wood to tumble into the lake. Please review and give me feedback about what you liked about it and some analysis! I love analysis! Anything that you think will happen next in the story.

À bientôt,

Amélie


	27. Exams!

Author's Note: Hey everybody! Sorry it took so long for me to update! School dragged me down a lot in the past couple of months. You wouldn't believe it. The final weeks of school are the worst in college. I really hope you like this chapter!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Twenty-Seven: Exams!

The smell of hot chocolate reached Harry's nose and he instantly opened his eyes; and to his great surprise, he could see! Well, not as well as he would hope to do so. His vision was the same as it had been before putting on his glasses in the morning: blurry. Extremely blurry. But, the fact that color and shapes were actually coming tahrough his eyes and back into his brain as they were supposed to was a miracle in and of itself. How this was possible, he did not know. On instinct, he felt around for his glasses inside the drawers of his nightstand, and lo and behold, found them!

Putting them on, he could see everything as clear as day. His room was rather different than he had last seen it, as it had none of its usual clutter of clothes thrown about on the floor, but his blanket was the same dark blue it had always been, and he was wearing his favorite green pajamas. He was so ecstatic that he shouted for joy and leapt from his bed and onto the floor.

_Leapt? _Wait? How could he possibly move his legs? They had been paralyzed for nearly a month now. Was it possible that his disabilities had simply healed on their own? The thought seemed an improbable one, as nerves did not normally heal without medical attention. Even at eleven-years-old, Harry knew that.

The floor was cold beneath his feet as he landed, feeling a great sense of happiness. Finally, he was able to walk and see again! With his heart full of merriment, he walked boldly, but carefully, out of his room and into the hallway.

He suddenly wondered where Sirius could be. If he were at work, he would have at least waited until Jana had arrived to take care of Harry, even though, now Harry was in no need of a home-school teacher. But, of course, Sirius wouldn't have known that.

"Sirius!" Harry called, hoping that his voice would be heard and that he would get a response. He waited a moment, but no response was returned. He then called his godfather's name again, only to be greeted with no answer.

_I hope he's alright, _Harry thought. He had always had nightmares about Sirius getting hurt or dying and he himself winding up in an orphanage as a result. Those were normally the nightmares where he would wake up in complete shock and start crying, whereas more harmful dreams caused him to scream and break into a cold sweat, before he was awoken forcibly by Sirius.

Then, suddenly, Harry realized something: where could the aroma of hot chocolate have come from if Sirius were not anywhere in the house? Wasn't that the entire reason why Harry had even woken up in the first place?

He decided to investigate further by heading down into the kitchen toward the direction of the smell. Reaching the wooden staircase, Harry took hold of the rail.

But, as his foot reached the first step, the rail shockingly broke, and Harry found himself falling, yet again, down the stairs. He tried to scream, but no sound came out of his mouth as he continued falling into darkness....

&&&&

Harry popped open his eyes, and blackness greeted them. He could feel the blankets that were wrapped tightly around him, and as he attempted to raise his right leg up into the air, he found that he could not.

It had been a dream. He had not regained his sight or the mobility in his legs. It was all a dream. He bit back a cry of anger and bitterness as the back of his hand hit his pillow. It was then that he heard the sound of his godfather's light breathing next to him.

Sirius had never been one to snore, which was always a blessing. After all, Harry had spent approximately two-and-a-half months with Ron and knew what a horror snoring could be.

He took his godfather's warm hand and held on tight to it, as if never wanting to let him go. Harry was feeling rather bad for Sirius, as he had sacrificed so much for the boy, but had so much stress to deal with.

Harry remembered the days when he could walk and see. Sirius had always been so happy, but now he was absolutely miserable. But, Sirius would never blame all of his misfortunes on Harry, the boy knew. He blamed no one but himself, as he always had.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes again, trying to fall asleep, hoping to have a better dream than the last. He just knew things would get better someday. Maybe not soon, but someday, they would.

&&&&

"I was wondering if you would like to have Christmas dinner with us?"

Harry's ears perked up at the sound of his godfather's request. He even felt Hedwig stir on his arm as he continued to pet her. She must have been curious, too.

As far as Harry could tell, the relationship between his godfather and Jana was going well. After his lapse in the hospital, the two of them had been talking more and seemed to be building more of a relationship. They were at least friends, and that was always a good start. And now, Sirius's inviting her to Christmas dinner must have told her something.

He had sounded a bit nervous when asking the question, but Jana had sounded even more nervous—and disappointed—when responding.

"I would love to," Harry heard her say. He could imagine her cheeks turning a bright red like all women did when a man was talking to them.

Harry had even seen Lavender act that way around one of the boys in Hufflepuff, Justin Finch-Fletchley, occasionally, but her face was never very pleasant-looking, as she normally acted stupidly around boys she liked. Once, as Harry remembered, in Charms class, Professor Flitwick had made Justin sit next to her, and as soon as he sat down, Lavender fell out of her chair and banged her chin on the edge of the table, giving herself a giant bruise that lasted for about a week, earning more than enough laughs and finger-points from the Slytherins, including Pansy Parkinson, who, without a bruise on her chin, had to be at least ten times uglier than Lavender looked or could ever possibly look.

"—but, I can't," she finished, sounding very sorry. "My parents have already invited me over to their house for Christmas…."

She was utterly disappointed, Harry could tell, and while it made him sad that she could not join them, he was at least happy to hear that she cared and actually wanted to spend time with Harry and Sirius. Hedwig nipped Harry's sleeve with her beak, as if telling Harry to say something to Jana to get her to change her plans.

_What can I say?_ Harry thought. _'Please come, because my godfather really likes you?' That would be the stupidest thing to say. _

Besides, she probably didn't see her family very often, when by contrast, she saw Sirius practically every day. They were probably looking forward to some much overdue time to spend with her.

"Maybe I'll be able to do something after Christmas," Jana said, trying to hold on to a chance that she might still be able to see them over the holidays. "I have the twenty-sixth to the second off. We could spend New Year's together!"

_New Year's would be great! _Harry thought excitedly, nodding his head, hoping that no one saw him doing so. That would certainly make Jana suspicious.

"New Year's could work," Sirius responded, sounding very happy, which caused Harry to smile. Happiness was a rather hard thing for his godfather to come by nowadays.

They talked for a few moments about their plans before Sirius had to leave for the Ministry, saying something about how someone had to pay him for something. He quickly gave Harry a hug good-bye and sped off via the fireplace. Harry could hear the roaring of the flames as he left.

"I hope you know what this week at Hogwarts is?" Jana asked Harry as she sat down beside them at the kitchen table. As the table was a good bit sturdier than the couch, Jana had thought it would be better to work over there. Plus, now Harry didn't have to spend time getting in and out of his wheelchair when he could just easily in it as if it were a part of the table.

"Uh, no…." But, Harry pondered this for a moment. He was sure he had no idea what this week was. All he knew was that next week was the week of Christmas. "I give up," he finally said.

"It's exam week," she said in her musical voice.

Then, Harry remembered. The week after school had started, he remembered Hermione's mindless talk about how exams were "the last week of school, a week before Christmas. So, we better be prepared now." Everyone had laughed at her talk, especially Ron. For one thing, who could they have possibly begun to study when school had barely even started?

"Oh, yeah," Harry responded. "I remember now. Do I get an exam?"

His heart began to sink. Obviously, he had not studied for any exam, but he had been practicing Braille, while attempting to use it to read the text book that Remus had given him a while back. Well, 'attempting', perhaps, was not the right word. He _was _learning. Braille was becoming more like a second-language for him, really, and he was quite motivated to learn it. The problem was that he was not far along enough to actually use any of the spells or other materials in the book. He could only imagine himself trying a spell with his wand and breaking a window. Besides, what good would a wand do if he couldn't see, anyway?

Jana laughed. "Not _really_…You just have to read some of the material in the book. That's all, and without my help, of course."

Harry nodded. That wouldn't be so bad. It reminded him of some of his charm tests where the entire thing simply involved performing a spell correctly without the use of the book. So basically, this "exam" was going to merely involve Harry's ability to read Braille. It would be so hard.

He could hear Jana place the large text in front of him and open it to a random page. Unlike most people who were talking exams at that same time, it did not matter whether or not Harry had actually learned the material, as he was simply reading it. As such, Jana could have opened it to the very last page, and Harry still could have passed without ever having looked at it before. It was seemed odd to Harry, however, that that would be the case. Getting tested on the ability to read material rather than on actually putting the material to use? It was a strange concept, one that, before becoming disabled, he would have thought as being the easy way out. Now, however, was a completely different story.

"I'll wait until you're reading," Jana said. Harry heard a ruffling sound, which must have been Jana rummaging through her bag to either get an English copy of the book to check Harry's progress or something on which to take notes.

"Ok," the boy said. He wasn't very nervous. There had been some tests at Hogwarts, most notably, in Potions class, that Harry had taken but had only studied the night before and had managed to get a decent grade. He was actually learning Braille on his own accord now, so he would do fine. Just fine.

"Here it goes." He took a deep breath and placed his finger at the top of the page where he felt a cluster of tiny raised dots.

&&&&

Meanwhile, on the other side of the continent, Neville Longbottom was biting his nails frantically, a bad habit his Gran would have scolded him for had she seen him doing it. He had survived four exams thus far, the worst having been Potions class. Snape breathing down his neck, just waiting for him to mess up, had certainly not been a comfort.

However, Defense Against the Dark Arts had always been his second-worst class, even with a teacher as kind as Professor Lupin teaching it. He had spent the entire night, literally, studying for this exam and had tried to write as tiny as he possibly could on the one piece of parchment the class was allotted to use for the test so that he could fit as much information on it as possible.

The other students had done the same. Hermione had gone to copying every bold word in every chapter they had studied so far. Even Ron and Seamus had attempted to write something down, if it that attempt were only a few words. The only one who hadn't done anything was Dean. Neville hadn't noticed him make a dent in his parchment, but then again, Dean was as smart as Hermione, but not nearly as neurotic (or show-offy, for that matter), and was probably taking a normal genius approach to studying, which would be to do nothing.

When the entire class reached the Defense classroom, Lupin greeted them with great enthusiasm and even told Neville that he would "do fine" on the exam. Well, as far as he could remember, he had never actually "done fine" on anything for any class except for Herbology. But, instead of telling his nicest professor that he was sorely mistaken, he simply nodded politely and went to sit down at his desk.

However, when he reached his seat, he found that there was someone else already sitting in it. It was a Hufflepuff, probably a fourth-year, with dark hair and eyes, and the most angelic face Neville had ever seen. Well, for a boy, that is. Neville suddenly felt disappointment. How was it that some people were so beautiful, while Neville got stuck with fat and bad teeth? It just wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry," the Hufflepuff said upon seeing Neville standing beside him. "Am I in your seat? I'll move. I'm not supposed to be sitting, anyway."

The boy stood up and Neville found that he was quite tall, much more so than he himself. Before, Neville could protest and say that he would just sit in another spot, the boy leapt over another desk and went to stand on the other side of Dean's.

"You can stand right there, Cedric," the smart boy said, pointing to an area on the floor. "Just make sure your feet are both on the parchment. It doesn't count if one's off and the other's on."

Wondering what the boy named Cedric was doing in the classroom, Neville was about to ask Dean, when Hermione took the words right out of his mouth as she skipped her seat and walked straight up to his.

"What is Cedric Diggory doing here?" Although, her tone was much ruder than what Neville had intended to use when asking.

Dean smiled widely. "He's the notes I'm using."

"_What_?" Hermione shouted in confusion. "No way, Dean. Professor Lupin said—"

"—that we could use anything that could 'fit on a piece of parchment'," Dean finished for her, "and Cedric, obviously, can fit. I went and asked around for days if anyone who had gotten an Outstanding on this exam would come and be my notes, and Cedric was the one who complied."

Hermione's eyes were now the size of saucers. "But-but—"

Neville would have laughed at the girl's expression if Professor Lupin had not come in from the doorway

"It was a very creative way of taking my instructions since I really didn't give any clarification as to what could actually be on the parchment," the Professor explained to Hermione, who looked so shocked that it was hard to tell if the teacher's words had even made it to her brain, "so, I'm allowing it."

Dean gave Hermione a smirk as the girl shut her gaping mouth and went back to her seat.

_Well_, Neville thought, as he turned back to his own piece of parchment, which he could barely read with all of its overlapping writing, _at least now someone can say they beat Hermione Granger. For a day, at least. _

End Note: Ha ha. Did anybody laugh? I actually got the idea from a real-life story that happened to somebody in college that one of my friend's knew. The teacher said they could use any notes on the exam they wanted, as long as they fit on a sheet of paper that the teacher gave. So, one person was clever enough to get a graduate student and have them stand on their paper! Can you believe that? Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. The next one will be Christmas and largely from Draco's point of view. Please remember to review and stay tuned.

Joyeux Noël,

Amélie


	28. Christmas

I'm sooooooooooooooooo sorry that I haven't updated in such a while! School was a nightmare! I had no time for anything, but now that it's summer, hopefully, I'll be able to update sooner!

La Vie Comme Un Infirme-Chapter Twenty-Eight: Christmas

"Draco! Wake up sleepy head! We have to clean!"

Dora's loud, perky voice never ceased to annoy Draco, especially not so early in the morning. Without even looking at an alarm clock, he could tell, as he opened his eyes warily, that it was no later than seven-thirty A-M.

"Clean?" He whined, making an attempt to throw the blanket over his head, just as Dora snatched it up off his bed. They had cleaned so much in the past few days that Draco was afraid cleaning any more would cause everything to evaporate. "What more is there to clean?"

"Your room, first of all," Dora replied, tossing the blanket on the floor. Her hair was long, curly and auburn this morning, something Draco had never seen on her before. It didn't look all that bad, but he soon decided that he preferred her with brown hair out of all the natural shades she had tried thus far. "And then the downstairs bathroom," she continued. "After someone uses it, we have to wipe it down again."

Draco sat up and yawned. Dora was far too obsessive-compulsive when it came to these sorts of things. Dust was everywhere, and there was no way she would be able to get rid of every spec.

"Can't we just relax today?" Draco asked, trying to sound the least bit whiny that he could.

"No," Dora replied immediately. "My grandparents—and Sirius and Harry- are coming tonight. Everything has to be spick and span for them, especially for Mimi. She's a horrible germaphobe."

_So that's where you get it from. _But that wasn't the worst thing about the Tonks family that troubled Draco. He knew Dora's grandfather was an Anglican preacher and as such, wouldn't fit well with Draco. There was no doubt that Ted and Andromeda had told Ted's relatives about the horrors of the Blacks and Malfoys, including their bigotry, hatred and everything else that was against Christianity, and what, according to the rest of the Wizarding world, made the Blacks and Malfoys who they were.

And as far as being religious went, Draco's part of the family was out. His parents never attended church, said prayers, or had any religious relics in their house, and Christmas was nothing more than a time for a lighted tea and gifts. In fact, Draco was certain that he had never even heard the word "church" until he was around eight-years-old, and that being from a few Wizarding children (he knew them to be Wizards for a fact, as Muggles could not see the Malfoy house) who had walked passed his mansion one Sunday. Draco had been playing with his broomstick in the yard, making a very feeble attempt at flying on his own, when he had noticed the children walking by, and had asked where they had just come from, since they were dressed in rather formal clothing.

Dora's side of the family was, obviously, the complete opposite. They prayed before every meal and before bed, and even attended church regularly. Lately, of course, either Ted or Andromeda stayed home to keep Draco company, as any sight of him in the Wizarding world would be a danger at the moment. At first, Draco was rather uncomfortable with all of the religious display, but after a while, had gotten use to it.

But, getting used to it would not prevent him from being a bit nervous around Ted's parents. What would they think of him upon realizing that he was part of the dark, evil Malfoy clan that Andromeda so desperately hated and had tried so hard to distance herself from? And plus, what could he possibly do with Harry and Sirius around? They hated him and were sure to fire insults at him. How was he going to survive this day?

Well, he would find out soon enough.

Finally, around six o'clock, Draco's cleaning had finally satisfied Dora. The hardwood floor was as shiny as it ever had been, all done from Dora's excessive checking and repolishing, rather than from the six different types of cleaning spells she had attempted to use, but as usual, had all backfired in her face. One literally. Sometimes Draco just couldn't see how his cousin was going to make it as an Auror if she couldn't even use spells to clean her own house, let alone fight criminals.

"Now all we have to do is wait for everyone to get here. I finished cooking the turkey," Dora told Draco, snapping him out from his stage one sleep on the freshly cleaned couch, "I'm just glad Mum made everything else already. That would be a tough one to do it all by myself."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're mum already did that yesterday! You probably charred it to bits."

"I did not!" Dora retorted, looking offended. "And for the record, I had no idea she had already cooked it. It was really tender when I got it out of the tinfoil, though."

_Urgh! _Draco thought, sinking down into his cushion.

Suddenly, a large roar emitted from the fireplace, and Andromeda stepped out, carrying some packages. She had been out shopping the entire day. An odd way to spend Christmas, in Draco's opinion, but she was probably doing so so that she could make sure she had everything ready for her in-laws. Even more obsessiveness in the family.

"Happy Christmas, sweethearts!" she said with a large smile.

"Are those our Christmas presents, Mum?" Dora asked, making an attempt to look inside one of the bags.

"I told you, Dora. We're not opening presents until after dinner."

Andromeda walked over to the brightly lit Christmas tree, under which lay even more Christmas presents, and placed the new ones, freshly wrapped and impossible to see through.

"Draco, sweetie," Andromeda began, "please watch your cousin and make sure she doesn't try to unwrap anything. I'm going to go heat up the turkey." She turned to walk into the kitchen when Dora ran passed her.

"No need, Mum," she explained quickly. "I did it already!"

_I believe she said "heat" and not "re-cook", _Draco thought. He got up from his chair and followed his aunt into the kitchen. There was a question he had been meaning to ask.

"Aunt Andromeda," he began, watching his aunt open tinfoil in which the now re-cooked turkey was wrapped, "if Uncle Ted's parents are Muggles, how can they come inside the house?"

"Muggles can come inside the house, silly," Dora answered for her mother. "A wizard just has to escort them, which means, of course, to take down all the wards and what not. They've been here plenty of times before."

Just as Dora said this, another roaring of the living room fire could be heard, as well as could a conversation.

"Andy, we're home!" Ted's voice could be heard throughout the house, but he was soon visible to the three former occupants as he walked through the kitchen door with two other people behind him, carrying duffle bags.

"Grandpa! Mimi!" Dora shouted, her hair turning her favorite shade of pink as she ran over to hug her grandparents.

"Oh Dora!" Mimi, a large woman with Ted's thick blond hair, exclaimed as she hugged her granddaughter back. "You're _still _hanging your hair every five minutes, I see."

"Actually, " Dora explained when she and her grandmother broke apart, "I can control it and keep one color for as long as I want now, unless I get really, really emotional, like in this case. I missed you!"

Draco immediately felt his face redden. He had never had the privilege of hugging his grandmothers and telling them he missed them. It made him a bit uncomfortable to see Dora do it. Actually, he didn't know if "uncomfortable" was the right word, but he didn't think "jealous" was, either, so the former of the two would have to do. He felt even more of whatever the feeling was when Dora ran over to hug her grandfather, a lean man with graying brown hair. Yes, "uncomfortable" had to be the word.

Andromeda then waited her turn to be hugged by her in-laws, leaving Draco to be the last in line, which made him very embarrassed.

"Grandpa! Mimi! This is Draco," Dora, predictably, was the one to introduce him.

Draco's heart began to pound as the two newcomers looked at him. Surprisingly, though, they both had warm smiles on their faces, something that Draco did not expect.

"Hi Draco," Mimi walked happily over and gave Draco a big hug. "It's good to finally meet a part of Andy's side of the family."

"Yes it is," Ted's father nodded, still smiling. He reached out to shake Draco's hand. "Good to meet you, Draco."

Draco took his hand and, for a moment, lost the ability to speak. He certainly did not want to give his family a bad reputation, which of course, they already had, but he was just too nervous to speak. Finally, the words surfaced to his brain and he managed to say, "Nice to meet you, too" with a big smile.

"When are Harry and Sirius getting here?" Mimi asked. Obviously, she was acquainted with the last two guests.

"Around seven," Ted responded, sounding as though he were not entirely sure.

Mimi looked sad. "The poor dear. He tries so hard to provide for Harry. Is the sweet boy getting any better?"

"Yes, actually," Andromeda said, beaming. "He's learning to read Braille and I think Sirius is going to start him in physical therapy soon. After he gets money for the hospital expenses, that is."

Draco remembered the conversation he had had with Sirius a while ago. He wondered if his parents had actually bought Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"Well, that's a blessing, then, isn't it?" said Rev. Tonks. "God works everything out in hard times."

Draco had to reflect on that for awhile, and suddenly realized that it was true. Through his expulsion from school and his maltreatment from his parents, he had found a very loving family that he would never known he had otherwise. So yes, he concluded, everything was working out.

Sirius and Harry arrived around seven o'clock, as Ted had expected, and Harry was in a much happier mood than Draco would have thought, although the latter purposely distanced himself from the former, not wanting to hurt Harry's mood. Around the dinner table, complete with turkey, salad, green beans, potatoes, and a variety of desserts, everyone began chatting about life and what was going on. Draco was silent for most of it, until Rev. Tonks began asking him questions.

"What does your family do for Christmas, Draco?" he asked. "If they celebrate it, of course."

Draco thought he heard Harry make a scoffing noise, which made him even more nervous.

"We celebrate it," Draco began slowly, staring down at his plate. He knew it was rude, but to admit to a religious man that his family certainly had no religious bones at all, made it hard for Draco to look the Reverend in the eye. "….just not in a religious sense."

"Most people don't, unfortunately," Mimi said, sipping her glass of water. "Only one percent of the non-magical population in Britain even attends church."

_But, the Muggles also don't put stock in Dark magic and an evil man who's trying to take over the world and declare himself "God",_ Draco thought. Wanting to distance the subject from himself, Draco asked, "How did you feel when Uncle Ted got his Hogwarts letter?"

He really wasn't sure if that was the proper question to ask, but it was the first one he thought of.

"Good question," Rev. Tonks smiled. "At first, I was skeptical to let him go, as witchcraft is against the Bible, as it says. But, I decided to go with him to Diagon Alley to get his books. I read all of them before I would let him read them so that I could make a decision whether or not these "magical" subjects were appropriate for a Christian boy; and I concluded that there was nothing Satanic about it. I found it more like a new technology than anything else. There was nothing that told me Ted would stray from God if he became a wizard. So, I let him go."

Draco nodded, still too nervous to say much else and scared that the conversation would come back to his family. But, surprisingly, it did not, as Dora began chatting about her "accomplishments" as an Auror trainee, to which Sirius was only partially agreeing with, as seen by the look on his face at what she was saying.

Later, around the Christmas tree, Draco was surprised to have been given gifts by his uncle's parents. At first, before opening it, he assumed, of course, that it would be a present with some religious significance. But, it turned out to be a book on Muggle cars, something which, to Draco's surprised, fascinated him later on. It was odd, however, how the pictures of the cars did not move, which motivated Draco's curiosity. However, this was not the only odd gift that he received. Harry had also given him a gift, something that surprised him even more than Ted's parents' gift.

It was a card written in Braille, which Draco had to decipher using a key that had the corresponding English letters on it. It was quite interesting, as Draco soon became absorbed in trying to figure out the messages. One of them, however, shocked him completely.

When deciphered, it turned out to say, "I forgive you."

**End Note: **So how was that chapter? Obviously, Harry and Draco are going to have a talk in the next chapter, and there will be more of the other Hogwarts students. So please stay tuned! Also, please review. I am very upset by the lack of reviews that I have not been receiving. That was partially why I did not update in so long, besides school issues. Really, if no one gives me reviews, I will cease to update. Also, don't give me anything like "there's no religion in Harry Potter" or whatever, because honestly, you don't know that. Plus, it's my story and I can make it what I want it. So PLEASE be nice to me. I don't want hateful emails! I really hope all of you enjoyed it because I really want to get back into the habit of writing again.

Thank you!

Amélie


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